


Calendrical Consequences

by childoflightning



Series: just keep stumbling forward (baby im waiting for you) [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Blind Sleep | Remy Sanders, Character(s) of Color, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Disabled Patton, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Intersectionality, Jewish Virgil, LGBTQ Character, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Multi, Muslim Roman Sanders, Other, Panic Attacks, Patton has Chronic Pain, They're all good friends okay?, Trans Morality | Patton Sanders, Virgil has PTSD, Virgil has a Service Dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-12 00:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoflightning/pseuds/childoflightning
Summary: Virgil is excited to begin his sophomore year of college. He's found a good group of friends, adjusted to college life, and is used to living miles and miles away from home. Virgil's ready for this. He's ready for anything. But Virgil wasn't exactly expecting the call asking him to testify in court, resurfacing all of his old trauma. Mix in family issues, growing feelings, a meeting with his counselor, and Virgil is left spinning.-Or the College AU because every fandom needs more of them.Plus, a sprinkle of trauma (or maybe a truckload).-WARNINGS: This fic deals with very serious mental health issues. Please be careful.





	1. Seasonal Equivalent (August)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil moves in with the three people he eventually learned to call friends. And good friends at that. It seems to be a good start to his Sophomore year of college. Really, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Scars, Nightmares, PTSD**  
>  In Depth TW in End Notes

**August 11, 2019**

 

Virgil huffed and placed the heavy box on the floor.

“I swear your arm probably isn’t even broken,” he complained loudly, specifically using the tone he reserved for whining about Roman.

Roman just smirked from where he was sitting on the couch. The couch that they had moved into the apartment but had yet to place in the right spot.

“I mean it is broken, but I do get the cast off next week,” Roman pointed out as he kicked his shoes off. His golden skin shone in the light and was even more tan than usual after the bright summer months.

“And you couldn’t of just waited another week to move in?” Virgil complained loudly as he brushed a hand through his curls.

Roman shrugged before hopping off the couch to open the box Virgil had hauled up.

Virgil didn’t really mind helping Roman move, it was just a long, sweaty process. Especially since he was wearing a long sleeve shirt in the heat. At least he had forgone his usual jacket.

“You did look pretty funny trying to come up the stairs with that thing,” Roman remarked, as he opened the box, “I thought you would take the elevator.”

Virgil stared at him for a second before dropping onto the carpet and sprawling across it.

“There’s an elevator?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes wide. Trixie walked over and sniffed at him, before pawing at him and wagging her tail.

“Of course there’s an elevator. You thought Patton was going to live in an apartment with just stairs?”

Virgil tilted his head as he thought about the question.

“Good point,” he muttered, “but then why did Logan and I have to carry the couch up the stairs?”

“Virgil, it’s a couch, it didn’t fit in the elevator.”

Virgil just rolled over and groaned into the floor. The floor that was probably pretty disgusting, but whatever, he was too miserable to complain. Trixie just continued to nudge at him playfully.

He grinned a bit at the action, inwardly laughing as she showed more of her playfulness now that she was off duty. He turned to make a face at her and her tail thumped against the carpet as she crouched down.

“Trixie, be a good girl and fetch the movies please?” Roman asked. Virgil turned to his back at the comment, looking at his roommate.

Trixie sat up and looked at Roman. She thumped her tail and cocked her head.

“The movies Trix,” he said, gesturing to the giant pile.

The dog walked over to him and gave him a few kisses. In response, Roman pet her as Virgil sat up.

“Virgil, your dog isn’t as well trained as you said she was,” Roman told him, even a he continued to shower Trixie with attention and love.

Virgil scoffed, and sat fully up, folding his legs underneath him.

“Yes she is,” he insisted, “She just doesn’t know what your asking. Watch.”

Virgil turned to Trixie.

“Trixie, Watch Me,” he called.

The dogs attention immediately turned to him and her tail stilled. Her focus was immediately on Virgil, ignoring all other distractions around her, waiting for his commands.

“Clean Up,” he called.

Trixie looked at the floor, sniffing before selecting one of the movies. She then trotted toward Virgil and released the disc when he held out his hand for it.

“All Done,” Virgil told her.

The seriousness that she had exhibited just moments before dropped and she flopped to her side to beg for belly rubs.

Virgil held up the case in triumph as his other hand dropped to give her the desired pets. Roman was staring at the two of them.

“That’s still so cool. Okay Trix-”

“You are _not_ using my dog to pick up your mess,” Virgil said, cutting him off. Roman groaned and stared at the pile. Virgil just threw the movie at him. Roman yelped when it made contact and immediately began to rub the location as if it had been some great wound instead of a slight tap.

“What are you two doing?” A voice from behind them said suddenly.

Virgil jumped a bit, hand going to his chest as he whipped his head around to face the intruder.

“Sorry,” Logan apologize, stepping more into the room. Patton was right behind him, leaning on his cane.

Virgil just waved Logan’s apology off as his heart steadied in rhythm.

“We’re uh, unpacking?” Roman offered. Logan just snorted, taking in the scene in front of him.

Both Roman and Virgil were on the floor, neither moving or being productive.

Trixie was also looking decidedly lazy, spread out on her side on the floor, belly showing and vest off. Patton walked over to give her some belly rubs, his hands easily finding her favorite spots and setting her tail off on a wagging spree once more.

Logan, on the other hand, turned to stare at the mess of movies on the floor, especially the case that looked slightly slobbered on. He just shook his head at the two of them. Virgil could only hope it was found exasperation.

“Virgil can you and Roman move the couch to where it should go? I just need to bring up one more box,” Logan requested.

“Can’t,” Roman said waving his arm with the cast to remind the other.

Logan sighed, “Alright,” he agreed before turning back to Virgil, “Virgil, just wait, when I come back up we can move-”

“I can do it,” Patton piped up from where he was still petting Trixie.

“Patton, you mentioned that you were quite a bit of pain today. It’s no problem, just give me a minute.”

Patton paused in his petting, and stood up, wincing as he used his cane for assistance. He was wearing overalls over a light colored shirt today, contrasting his deep oak skin.

“No really, it’s fine,” he insisted.

Logan hesitated, but nodded, before retreating to grab the last of the things.

At his exit, Virgil himself stood, both him and Patton walking over to the couch. They counted to three before lifting it and slowly carried it to sit in a more centered spot of the living room. It wasn’t perfect and they would probably have to move it again once they got more settled, but at least it was in the general area of where it was supposed to be, as well as being out of the way.

Once they were done, Roman immediately flopped onto it. He laid down with a sigh, only moving his feet to allow Patton to join him. Virgil frowned at the action.

“Uh no, Roman you did nothing, get up.”

Roman pretended to snore, ignoring Virgil. Virgil growled softly and reached over to push him off the couch. He shoved hard and Roman barely managed to grab on in time to avoid a painful collision with the ground. Virgil shot him a glare and he scooted off, relinquishing the seat. Virgil flopped onto it and sighed happily as Roman crawled over to the chair next to the couch.

“You could’ve just taken the chair,” Roman pouted.

“It’s lumpy,” Virgil said with a smirk.

“Personally, I chair-ish the opportunity to sit on it,” Patton quipped.

Both of them groaned just as Logan rejoined them.

“Puns?” Logan asked.

“Furniture ones,” Virgil said, twisting to look at him.

“Please no. I don’t want to be apartment this,” Logan said with a sigh.

“Couldn’t of said it bedder myshelf,” Roman pitched in.

They all turned to look at Virgil expectantly.

The lanky boy sighed and shrugged.

“We moved,” he offered.

“That’s not a pun,” Logan pointed out.

“I know.”

“You’re gonna make Patton sad,” Roman told him.

Virgil looked over at his friend, who was giving him a pouty grin. He clasped his eyes together and made his eyes wider.

“I’ll let you know I’m invincible to puppy dog eyes, I have to resist Trixie’s on the daily,” he reminded them. They all sighed.

“We’ll get you eventually,” Patton promised.

“Sure you will,” Virgil dismissed.

* * *

**August 18, 2019**

 

“YO! Everyone up! It’s the last day of summer vacation and I’m not letting any of you waste it!” Roman shouted.

Virgil jerked awake at the yell before groaning and slamming a pillow over his head. While Roman’s shouting had been muffled by the wall, it had still been way too loud.

“You have ten minutes!” he warned.

Fuck. He should get out of bed. Roman would follow through with whatever more convincing methods he had thought of if Virgil refused. He shuddered to think about the numerous incidents before. He liked to believe that he had learned his lesson.

Twelve and a half minutes later and they all sat at the table, some looking more awake than others. Meaning, Roman was fully aware and the rest were half asleep.

Logan had his headphones on and was fiddling with his watch, not touching the pancakes Roman had prepared as a courtesy. Virgil on the other hand, was eating them, but each bite was vicious as he stabbed at the pancakes. Roman frowned at said pancakes, seemingly concerned. _Good_. Virgil had written Roman’s name in syrup on the pancakes before cutting into them with vengeance. Finally, Patton, whose head was propped up by one hand and drooling slightly onto his food.

“Good morning everyone,” Roman greeted cheerfully, pulling his gaze away from Virgil’s pancakes.

Patton shot up from where he had started to doze off.

“Roman,” he cheered, “I’m ready for this pan-tastic day,” he said, gesturing to the pancakes.

Virgil and Logan continued to sit in silence

“Surly Temple, Microsoft Nerd, you with us?”

Virgil just glared, but Logan gave a nod and nudged one of the corners of his headphones off his ear. Roman just shrugged, seemingly satisfied enough.

“Good,” he clapped his hands together, “We’re going to campus. They’re putting on a game thing, and we’re entered as a team.”

“Seriously,” Virgil groaned, “You couldn’t, uh I dunno, _ask_ us, first? You just assumed we would want to do it? Who gave you the right to choose for us?” Virgil bit out.

Roman leaned back and blinked. Patton and Logan both turned to look at their angry roommate. The roommate who immediately realized what he had done.

“Shit, sorry Roman. It actually doesn’t sound bad, I just didn’t sleep well.”

Which was the truth. Virgil never slept well in the first place, and last night he had some sort of nightmare he couldn’t quite remember the contents of. All he knew was that he woke up shivering and near tears with Trixie on his chest before drifting off again.

“Oh. Okay. Well, you don’t have to do it,” Roman replied, tone meek.

“No, no, I want to,” Virgil confirmed, “I just- I’m a dick. Thanks for setting this up. I just don’t like surprises, they make me anxious.”

“Right, no more surprises in the future.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what is this ‘game’ thing?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged.

“I don’t really know, we’ll find out! But we head out in,” Roman checked the clock, “fifteen minutes, so be ready to go.”

The three roommates stared at him.

“What?” Roman said frowning.

“You couldn’t have told us earlier?” Virgil yelped, before all three of them darted off to get ready. Oh well, might as well get into the school scramble a day early.

-

“I thought you said you signed us up?” Virgil asked when they reached the line for sign-ins.

He was looking decidedly out of place in his thick hoodie. Almost everyone around them wore summer clothing, from t-shirts to sports bras to even less. But whatever, being hot was better than showing off his scars. He had barely become comfortable going without long sleeves in the presence of his roommates as is. And he still refused to wear shorts around them regularly.

“I did,” Roman confirmed.

“The sign says groups of five to eight,” Virgil said, pointing at one of the many large signs up front.

“Yep,” he agreed

“There’s four of us.”

“Trixie is our fifth.”

Logan and Patton snorted as Virgil gaped.

“What?” he asked.

Roman shrugged, “It said nothing about being human, just that whoever was entering had to have valid ID and be affiliated with the school.”

Logan hummed and added, “Ah, I see, technically, Trixie should qualify. She has a school ID. And Trixie is technically affiliated with the school so,” Logan just shrugged and Roman grinned.

“True!” Patton perked up, “This is going to be great! We get the best team member!”

Patton shot an excited grin at the dog. Trixie just ignored him, keeping her attention on Virgil.

“You do realize that while Trixie does have an ID, that doesn’t mean I have to carry it with me? It’s illegal to ask me to provide proof of her being a service dog. They can only ask if she is one, and what tasks and function she performs” Virgil commented drily.

“Yes Negative Nancy, we know. Now did you bring her ID or not?” Roman asked.

“You told me to bring my ID. I keep her’s with mine.”

Of course Virgil carried it. He may not need it, but what if he did.

“Yes!” Patton said, jumping up in excitement.

Logan offered a small grin as well.

“Trixie girl get ready for a long day,” Virgil warned.

-

The games were pretty cheesy, but super hyped up, and even though the group got out in the sixth round- stupid fucking egg walk- they enjoyed the time they got to participate.

“Okay but Lo, how are you that good at cornhole? Patton asked as they made their way back.

Logan shrugged.

“My sister was obsessed with it in eighth grade.”

“But Patton, the better question, you and Virgil with spikeball?” Roman asked, shock coloring his words.

Patton blushed at the praise.

“Anxiety and PTSD equals either super fast reflexes or no reflexes. Fight, flight, or freeze. You just got lucky today,” Virgil explained with a half shrug.

“I personally enjoyed when we played tug-of-war,” Logan commented with a slight smirk.

The other three broke out in giggles.

“When Trixie just yanked as hard as she could-”

“And the other team fell over-”

“Beautiful.”

* * *

**August 27, 2019**

 

“Ugh,” Virgil muttered as he walked into the apartment, kicking his shoes off. He immediately went to the couch and flopped onto it, groaning into a pillow.

“Virgil, all you alright?” called a voice from behind him.

Virgil just groaned louder but provided the voice belonging to Logan a thumbs up.

“Long day?” Logan asked.

Virgil finally sat up and turned to look at his friend.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Virgil agreed.

“What happened.”

“I have a fifteen page report due.”

“And have you started?”

“I mean _yes_ ,” Virgil hedged.

Logan provided nothing in response and continued to look at a point near Virgil’s chin.

“But I’ve only written two pages,” he admitted.

Logan just stared at him and shook his head slowly. Great the disappointed face.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Logan said, gesturing to the door.

“Uh, what?” Virgil asked, brain way too tired to make whatever connection it was supposed to be making.

“Well Patton’s at the library until late. Roman has play practice. That leaves the two of us. And considering you have a fifteen page paper due and I have nothing, it only makes sense for me to help you.”

“You don’t have to help me,” was Virgil’s automatic response. He would never let anyone make even the tiniest of sacrifices for him. It was a bit of an issue.

“Virgil, I don’t mind,” Logan insisted.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, but the anxiety of not finishing the paper beat out the anxiety of accepting help.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed. But then, “And not that I don’t appreciate your help, because I do, please help me, but why are we leaving the apartment?”

“To get pastries,” Logan said simply.

“To get-” Virgil repeated, before snapping out of it, “What, why?”

“Well, you don’t drink coffee.”

Virgil shuttered at the thought. And he thought his anxiety was bad as is. Mix in caffeine? Yeah, that was a definite no.

“So pastries instead. It was just what came to mind.”

Virgil shrugged and stood.

“Okay,” he agreed, walking towards the door and grabbing Trixie’s leash, “Let’s go.”

-

“I took a similar course last year,” Logan commented as they sat down to start, now with pastries, “It was interesting.”

“Yeah, religion is fascinating. When it’s not kicking my ass.”

“Hmm,” Logan agreed before pulling out his computer. Virgil sighed but did the same, pulling up the document that was much too short.

“Are you _sure_ you want to help?” Virgil asked for what had to be the billionth time.

Logan had said yes, but what if he didn’t really mean it? What if Virgil was doing something that was making him agree without even knowing he was doing it? Could he be somehow manipulating Logan into doing something he didn’t want to? Logan had to have better things to do, why was he helping him?

“Oh, it’s no problem. Again, it’s interesting.”

“Okay, you’ll need a Bible- Shit I only have one,” he realized.

“No worries, I have one as well,” Logan said as he stood.

“You’re religious?” Virgil asked, looking up at his roommate with a frown, “I thought you were atheist?”

“Oh, no,” Logan answered with a shake of his head before leaving the room without another word.

“But-” Virgil said softly then just sighed. He would wait until Logan came back to ask his questions.

Logan, of course, reappeared a minute later with a Bible in hand. The exact version they were using for his class as well.

“Oh, did you have it for your class last year?” Virgil asked. Logan had said he had taken the class, so it would certainly make sense if he had the book still.

“What?” Logan said with a frown.

“The Bible,” Virgil clarified, gesturing at the object.

Logan looked down at it with a small frown, studying the front of it.

“Oh no,” he explained, eyes still latched to the cover, “I got it last year when I learned that Roman was Muslim.”

“Uh, Logan, it’s a Bible,” Virgil said carefully. After all, Virgil knew Logan was an atheist, but it was unlike the man to get such a significant fact mixed up.

“Yes.”

“Roman is Muslim.”

“Yes.”

Yeah, there was no more dodging this.

“Well, the Islamic holy book is the Qur’an.”

“I know. I also purchased a copy of the Qur’an. As well as the Torah, even though it should, theoretically, be the same as the Old Testament from the Bible,” Logan was quick to answer.

“Why?” Virgil asked.

“Why are they the same?”

“No, why did you buy all three of those.”

“Oh, well Judaism, Islam, and Christianity all revolve around a shared belief in a common deity. I thought that if Roman and I were going to be friends, I could at least educate myself on his religion and the religions that surrounded it.

“In addition, you are Jewish, even if you don’t really practice the religion itself.

“I haven’t actually read any of them all the way through, but the parts I have have been enlightening. Not that I would say I am religious, even after reading the texts. I still consider myself an atheist. I merely found them interesting.”

Virgil could only stare a bit in response. Logan had done that for Roman? Sure, Virgil had done some google searches and looked up a few keywords and phrasing to understand his friend better and not be a complete ass on accident.

He’d also looked a bit into the amount of hate crimes committed against Muslim Americans, which had been quite high and quite disturbing. He may or may not have had nightmares about the fact that together he and Roman fit into the top three groups most likely to have hate crimes committed against them in the United States. Turns out being Jewish or Muslim was bad enough. Add being gay to being Jewish or Muslim and it got a lot worse.

And Logan- who had never been religious himself- had gone out of his way to read and study three incredibly hard texts that held no value to him besides the fact that his friends found them of some importance.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that Logan?”

Virgil’s voice was soft but true and Logan blushed and adjusted his glasses.

“I- thank you Virgil. Now the paper?”

“Yes, right,” Virgil muttered, refocusing on his computer. They had a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: Scars** Virgil mentions that he has scars, **Nightmares** Virgil mentions he has nightmares, **PTSD** Virgil has PTSD and exhibits numerous symptoms of PTSD.  
> -  
> The new and improved Chapter 1 of Calendrical Consequences! Slowly making my way through and cleaning up this and all my other stories. I hope you enjoy, and I would absolutely love to hear what you thought! Remember to always be polite!
> 
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	2. Meteorological (September)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School starts back up and Virgil's doing alright, if having a bit more nightmares than usual. Add in a meeting with his counselor and Virgil starts to question what he's even doing with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Nightmares, Kidnapping, References and Allusions to Past Abuse, Panic Attack, Chronic Pain, Prescribed and Safe Use of Medication**  
>  In Depth Triggers in End Notes
> 
> PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE TRIGGER WARNINGS! Things start to get heavy in this chapter, and this is just the beginning. Things will get better, but they get worse first. If you have concerns about TW or would like more in depth TW then the end notes provide, feel free to reach out. And remember, your safety and well being comes first.

**September 5, 2019**

_Virgil was six._ His mom had brought him to the park to play with the other kids. But Virgil wasn’t really into playing with the other kids. They were loud and always organized games that made no sense to him. He played tag with them for a little bit, mostly to appease him mom, but quickly found it uninteresting and decided to leave them.

Instead he went over to the big tree with the roots that were bigger than his body in some places. He found a cool stick and poked it into the ground, frowning when it fell down. He tried again, but it just fell over once more. He was about to make a third attempt when a voice spoke up behind him.

“Hey kid, need some help?” a women offered, kneeling to his level.

“Momma told me not to talk to strangers,” he whispered.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not a stranger, I’m Eliza’s Mom,” she explained. Her smile was warm and her simple blouse gave her a look of motherly affection.

“Eliza’s Mom?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Yep, you played tag with her, remember?”

Virgil looked over at the group he was previously with. Frowning a bit at the kids who continued to chase after one another.

“Oh,” he frowned, “I thought her name was Abby.”

“Nope, but that's okay. The point is I’m not a stranger. Can I help you?” the strange woman asked him.

She leaned over a bit, inspecting what the young boy was doing. She raised her eyebrows a bit at the realization he was just repeatedly slabbing sticks in the ground. But really, he was six. Stabbing sticks in the ground was cool.

Virgil shrugged, “Sure. I can’t get the branch to stick up.”

“Let me help.”

She reached toward his hand to take the stick. In response, he held it out to her.

But instead of taking it, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him, clamping something over his mouth. He tried to scream, but his eyes got heavy and suddenly he was asleep.

“VIRGIL! VIRGIL! Stop her! _That woman has my kid! Help! Help!”_

-

Virgil woke up screaming.

“V, V, its Roman, you’re okay man.”

“What, what, Roman?” he whispered around choked breathing as he looked frantically around the room. His heart thudded in his chest loudly, droning at every other noise around him.

“Yeah man. You had a nightmare. Everything’s okay,” his roommate soothed.

Trixie was on him, putting pressure on him. He breathed deeply in reassurance. That was all over now. He was home and he was safe. He was okay. He was safe.

His heartbeat started to slow and the drowning buzz in his ears faded away. A tendril of shame clawed its way in instead.

“Right. Thanks. Sorry,” he muttered, face hot

“Not a problem,” Roman yawned. He was asleep in seconds.

Virgil just blinked at the ceiling and hoped that sleep would eventually take him soon.

-

Virgil woke up two more times that night. Luckily, neither seemed to wake Roman. In fact, when Virgil woke up in the morning for good, Roman was still snoozing away. Virgil could only guess he had gotten up to pray earlier and then fallen back asleep before his first class.

Virgil sighed and pushed off the covers before heading towards the kitchen. Patton was already at classes, but Logan should still be here.

He had started to heat up water for tea when Logan himself walked into the room. He was looking at something on his phone, flapping one of his hands absentmindedly and grinning wildly. He stopped immediately when he saw Virgil, shoving his hand into his pocket and clicking his phone off.

“What were you looking at?” Virgil asked.

“Oh,” Logan adjusted his glasses, “Just, a video of a fish. It's really quite unimportant. I just-”

“You don't have to justify your interests around us Logan. And we won't get mad when you stim.”

Logan nodded at the reminder.

“Would you,” Logan hesitated, “like to watch the video with me?”

“Sure,” Virgil replied.

Logan quickly joined Virgil and held the screen between the two before restarting the video. It was short, about twenty seconds, of a fish with long flowing colorful fins. As they watched it a few times, Logan took out his hand to flap it and even jumped. Virgil smiled at his excitement. It was nice seeing Logan become more comfortable stimming around them.

They watched it on repeat for maybe two minutes before Logan turned the phone off.

“What time is your first class?” he asked.

“I need to leave in about ten, fifteen minutes.”

The kettle started to hiss. Virgil walked over as he saw the steam rise.

_The water was boiling. It would burn him if he touched it. But they knew that. They knew it would burn him. That was the point._

He clutched his arms right to himself and backed away breathing heavily. Trixie jumped up, pressing her paws against his chest. His gaze jerked to her and with a rush he snapped out of the flashback and returned to the present.

“Thanks girl,” he said, giving her a small treat from his pocket. Speaking of which, he needed to feed her. He would do that after his tea.

“Logan, do you want tea?” he asked.

“Yes please.”

Virgil filled two cups, dropping in Logan and his respective favorites. He then took out Trixie’s bowl and filled it up with her food, put some water in it, and placed it on the floor. She sat by it patiently, not moving until he gave her the command that allowed her to eat.

He sipped his tea slowly just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took out the offending device and read the reminder that told him to get ready for class. Right, time to get moving.

* * *

**September 11, 2019**

 

“Virgil, come in,” Michelle greeted, beckoning him into her office.

Virgil scowled, but followed, Trixie at his side.

Michelle held the door open as he entered, smiling at him in a way that was much too wide to be real. He took a seat in the small office and she started to close the door behind them.

He could feel the room closing in, trapped in the cellar.

Trixie whined and pawed at him, causing him to jerk back to the present. He patted her head.

“Thank you sweetie,” he told the pup.

The counsellor took her own seat across from him and studied him carefully

“So, you chose your major,” she commented when it became obvious that Virgil wasn’t going to be the person to start the conversation.

Really, Virgil didn’t get why these meetings existed anyway. He understood that the school was trying to help each students “get settled” or whatever but did he really need this? He was passing his classes and on track to graduate. What more did they want?

“Yes I did. At the end of last year. Which you know.”

She shuffled some papers. For show, he suspected. Really, how much paperwork could this conversation involve? Plus, she wasn’t looking down at any of them.

“Well yes,” she admitted, “But I’m actually curious about what you want to do with your Creative Writing degree once you achieve it.”

Virgil froze.

“What?” he asked.

“Virgil,” she said, “What do you want for your future?”

-

Virgil walked glumly back to the apartment he shared with Logan, Roman, and Patton. With a groan, he shoved the door open.

He walked in, planning to flop onto the couch only to find Roman with a bowl of cheerios already sitting there.

Virgil just groaned again, causing Roman to look up.

“Hey,” Roman greeted, “long day?”

Virgil huffed in confirmation and joined him.

He sat on the floor, allowing Trixie to perform DPT. He needed the grounding method.

“You okay?” Roman asked as he watched his friend’s dog task.

Virgil shrugged miserably. Slowly, tears started to drip down his face in large drops.

“Woah, woah, woah, Surly Temple,” Roman said in panic, scrambling to join the older boy on the floor.

“Hey, uh, Virge? Can I touch you?”

Virgil just nodded and continued to silently cry. Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil and pulled him close, careful not to shift Trixie, allowing her to still perform her task. Roman had gotten a lot better about noticing things like that in the year they had known each other.

Virgil's tears eyes dried after a minute and he leaned heavily into Roman’s side.

Roman rubbed his back in comfort.

“Hey, what's up?” he asked, “What's going on?”

“I had a meeting with my counselor.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that. But, isn't that supposed to be a good thing? She like, helps you and stuff?”

Virgil sniffled and swiped at his eyes.

“She asked me about my future.”

“Okay? Again Count Woe-lof, I'm gonna need a little more information. I'm not quite understanding.”

“I have no clue what I want for my future,” Virgil said with a huff, throwing his hands up.

Roman’s eyes narrowed slightly and Virgil could practically see his mind racing as he attempted to figure him out.

“Okay. Well that's okay?” Roman offered, “I mean yeah, you should probably start thinking about it, but you have time. No need to panic over it,” he attempted to comfort.

Virgil just gave him a look.

“I panic over everything,” Virgil said with a chuckle.

Roman shrugged and offered him some cheerios.

-

It was in this state that Logan and Patton found them in when they returned from their date. Roman excused himself to pray, Logan went off somewhere, and Patton joined Virgil on the floor.

“V, kiddo, are you okay?” Patton asked softly.

Virgil gave a small smile. Like always, Patton always knew when something was off. He may not always understand what or why, but he at least knew that something was wrong. It was a nice support to have.

“Yeah, I'm good. Roman and me talked, just got a lot on my mind,” he admitted.

Patton nodded, and after asking for permission, started to thread his fingers through Virgil’s hair. Virgil grinned softly at the action as his body relaxed.

“Hey, you and Logan got back early. Didn't go out for dinner?”

“Nah,” Patton said shrugging, “decided to just get back to the two of you. Lo’s not having a great day, and it's getting busier. And busier means louder.”

Virgil nodded in understanding. Then came to a realization.

“Shit, it's my night to cook,” he looked down at his dog, “Trixie-”

Patton waved his hand.

“Don't worry about it Virgil. I can cook.”

“You sure Pat? You cook a lot. And it's my night,” he protested

Patton just smiled, “Don’t worry, it's no problem. Plus you weren’t expecting me and Logan anyways.”

“I just don't want you putting to much on yourself like you used to.”

Patton gave him a wide smile and switched from petting his hair to quickly ruffling it. Virgil scowled and shoved the hand away.

“Thanks for looking out for me kiddo. Don't worry, I know now how to communicate my limits. It's really okay. I need something to do anyway.”

Virgil hesitated. It was still hard for him to accept help, but after years of practice it was getting slightly easier. Plus, his friends did seem so sincere. They seemed to genuinely want to help. So he relented.

“Okay. Thanks. Just let me know if you need help I guess.”

Patton just hummed and got to work.

Virgil shrugged and stayed with his dog.

Eventually, he directed Trixie up and left to his room that he shared with Roman.

He could fully admit that when the four of them had first started discussing rooming together he was inclined to refuse. His freshman year he had gotten a single dorm through his situation, and the idea of sharing an apartment off campus, much less sharing a room, scared him more than he cared to admit.

Plus, it meant sharing with Roman. And while the two were friends now, they weren't very close in the beginning. The two of them, unknowingly, were phenomenal at hitting each other in their most vulnerable spots.

But, the apartment was working out so far. Hopeful this whole “plan for the future” thing would too.

* * *

**September 21, 2019**

 

“Roman was a genius for bringing this,” Virgil commented as he continued to hit buttons on his controller, knocking Patton off the platform again.

“No,” Patton whined as his character fell, “Yeah it is pretty fun,” he replied, turning to glance quickly at Virgil, “I never really got into video games as a kid.”

They two of them were sitting on the couch, blankets wrapped around them, as the clock steadily ticked towards morning.

Virgil snorted, “I can tell.”

“Hey,” Patton said, letting out an offended gasp. He then proceed to walk his character off the platform. “Okay yeah, I suck at this.”

“We’ll choose a different platform next time,” Virgil promised, “One you can’t fall off of.”

“Oh good,” Patton muttered, eyes narrowed on the screen.

He pressed a button and his avatar jumped.

“Wait, if that’s jump, then what’s attack?”

“Well there’s multiple attacks,” Virgil started to explain once again.

“Wait, what!” Patton exclaimed, looking at his controller in a mixture of shock, horror, and awe.

Virgil snorted again, “Yes, I showed you them. Do you want me to show them to you again?”

“Huh. Uh, yes please,” Patton then proceeded to walk off the cliff again, ending the round.

“Okay, let me choose a new map and then I will,” Virgil said as they were returned to the home screen. Virgil fiddled around a bit, going through the multitude of maps. He flicked between three particular maps before finally settling on one.

He then held up his own controller, showing Patton the different buttons and going through each one and what they did. Patton listened intently staring back and forth between Virgil’s controller and his own.

“Hopefully this map will be better,” Virgil muttered as their characters spawned on the screen. The two played for a bit longer, Patton finally getting the hang of it, before Patton spoke up.

“So, why are you still up Virge?”

Virgil sighed, “Nightmares,” he admitted.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He shrugged and pressed a few buttons. His character on screen threw a bomb, creating an explosion that knocked Patton’s character back.

“Same as always,” he said, “Just a bit worse than usual.”

He tried to blink back the encroaching memories from his mind. Images of _blood and bodies and being trapped and taken._ Images of _promises that he was cared for and safe and that they loved him even as they turned around and abused him the next moment._

He had to focus hard on pushing the memories to the back of his mind. Sometimes processing through it all was just too much. And if he didn’t have the strength to process it, it would just be overwhelming and damaging. Sometimes it really was better to just put a wall up and push it away. Sometimes that was the only thing he could do.

This was where the distraction of playing

“What about you?” Virgil asked, “Pain keeping you up?”

Patton nodded.

“I took my pain meds, but,” Patton shrugged.

Virgil studied him, noticing how his face was drawn tight under his cheerfulness and how he moved as little as possible. It had always been hard for Virgil to tell how Patton was feeling. Sometimes the physical symptoms gave him away, because they’re wasn’t much he could do about hiding them. But Patton could hide the pain. And he was good at it.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil offered, at a loss for anything else.

Patton shrugged.

“It’s kind of just what chronic pain is a lot of them time. Hurt’s a lot, just trying to distract myself.”

Virgil could get that, that attempt at distraction. It was also something he could go along with.

“By killing your character every two seconds?” he teased.

“I’m not trying to!” Patton protested. It probably would have been more effective is his character didn’t die right then.

“Sure,” Virgil said with a chuckle as they continued to play.

They would distract for now. Distract until they could deal with it. If they could even deal with. Because sometimes distracting was all you could really do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IN DEPTH TW: Nightmares** (Virgil experiences and references nightmares connected to his trauma. He wakes himself up screaming), **Kidnapping** (Virgil has a nightmare recounting his kidnapping), **References and Allusions to Past Abuse** (numerous times. Virgil is grabbed, mentions he was burned, and there are comments suggesting abuse throughout the chapter), **Panic Attack** (Virgil has a short panic attack, but is quickly grounding by his dog tasking), **Chronic Pain** (Patton has a chronic pain condition and mentions that he is almost always in pain), **Prescribed and Safe Use of Medication** (Patton mentions he has taken pain meds, due to being pain in result of a chronic pain condition. He also notes that the meds didn't really help).
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading. I love to here from all of you, even if its juts kudos or a quick "this doesn't suck". Please remember to be polite to everyone! Have a great day!  
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	3. Collision Course (October)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic Attack, Cult Involvement, Blood Mention, Unintentional Self Harm, Graphic Description of Bones, Blood, and Dead Bodies, Throwing Up, Kidnapping, Abuse of a Minor  
> In depth TW in end notes

**October 15, 2019**

 

He got the call early in the morning.

“Hello,” he said blearily, only picking it up because this was the number’s third time calling in a row.

“Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Virgil Torres?” a voice asked. It was unfamiliar, stiff, and professional. Virgil waited for the usual spiel about tax fraud, or saving on student loans, or whatever scam they were running.

“Uh, yes that’s me.”

In most cases, he would have hung up. But they knew his name. How did they know his name?

“I’m calling to inform you that we have Matthew Waters in custody… He is going to go on trial for his crimes… April… Your experience with him could be of great use… we need you to testify… take some time to process… We’ll call you again next week… Have a good day.”

When the person on the other line hung up, Virgil gasped and collapsed to the floor. Trixie was on top of him in mere seconds.

She did her best to perform her tasks even as Virgil cried and pushed her away.

_He couldn't breathe._

_They had found him._

_They were going to see him._

_They would know._

_They would kill him._

_He was going to die._

_Holy shit he was going to die._

_He didn't want to die._

_He couldn't breathe._

His breath came in painful gasps as his mind shot to the past. Images of _human bones and looking into a dead person’s eyes_. Memories of _being hit and burned and placed in the cellar._

_The cellar where they kept the bodies. It reeked. Flies had taken over the room of corpses and he could feel them on his skin. Walking along his body. And the loud shouting voices. Commanding him to obey and comply. Demanding he believe in a god that hated him._

_He could see their arms reaching towards to grab him. Grab him and take him back and kill him like the rest. Kill him and string his bones up. Hang his flesh as a gift to the dead. Pour his blood along their bodies, soaking in his pain. He screamed._

Touch was the first sense Virgil regained.

Cold.

Cold what?

Cold floor.

Pain.

Pain what?

Pain in arms.

Soft.

Soft what?

Soft dog.

Sound was the second sense Virgil regained.

“How long-”

“I’m trying-”

“Should we-”

“Did he move-”

“Roman, come here-”

“Guys I think he’s-”

Sight was the third sense Virgil regained.

Faces.

Three faces.

Patton. Roman. Logan.

Worried.

Jacket?

Large jacket. Favorite jacket. On him.

Dog?

Dog. Trixie. Good girl.

Smell and taste were the last senses Virgil regained.

He shot up, sitting on the cool floor of the room, leaned over, and retched.

Someone winced in sympathy off to his side. Tears pricked the corner of Virgil’s eyes as the overwhelming feeling of ‘not good’ hit him.

Once Virgil had completely emptied his stomach right in the middle of the kitchen floor, he turned back to his friends. They looked about as bad as he felt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He felt like he was speaking around a mouthful of cotton.

“Oh honey,” Patton said, tears in his eyes, “It’s okay.”

“Virgil, how do you feel about moving to the living room?” Logan offered, “It’ll be comfier and we can clean up.”

Virgil glanced down. Not only had he thrown up everywhere, there was blood on the floor.

“What blood, wait why is there blood, guys, guys.” Virgil stared in horror at the floor. Oh god he really was back-

“C’mon Virgil, deep breathing,” Roman encouraged.

“With me,” Logan started, “4, 7, 8.”

Virgil struggled to get his breathing back under control, doing his best to follow Logan’s guidance.

“Okay, Virgil, I’m going to tell you some things, and I’m going to need you to try and stay calm. We can stop and breathe whenever you need to, okay?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded. He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears.

“You had a major panic attack. In the process you ended up biting your lip and scratching your arms raw. Patton cleaned up your arms and bandaged them, but some of the scratches are decently deep. None need further medical attention. You were screaming for quite a while, so your throat is probably very sore. We can get you some water in a minute,” Logan explained, voice soft.

Virgil just stared.

“Virgil, did you understand all of that?”

Virgil nodded.

Logan sighed.

“What do you think about moving to the living room?” Logan asked.

“Okay,” Virgil said hoarsely.

No one moved.

“I, I don’t think I can move,” Virgil said at last.

He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he was just stuck. Everything was a blurry fuzzy mess. Like turning on the radio and getting static. Except it was his brain that was broadcasting the static, and that static was being sent to every part of his body.

“Is it okay if Roman carries you?” Logan asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil directed Trixie off his lap, allowing Roman to reach forward and lift him up. He carried him into the other room, Trixie following close behind. Logan and Patton chose not to follow and instead got to work cleaning the mess in the kitchen.

In the living room, Roman carefully set Virgil on the couch, Trixie leaping up to lay on him once more.

Roman looked at him and shifted from foot to foot. Virgil sighed at his uneasy posture, and patted the couch for him to join him. Roman squeezed in with them, sitting on the very edge of the seat.

“Roman, it’s okay,” Virgil said, “I’m fine.”

The other boy snorted.

“Uh, V, I don’t know about you but I don’t consider finding you in the worst panic attack that I have ever seen you have as ‘fine.’”

Virgil sighed and started to pet Trixie as he started to think about why he had said panic attack in the first place. Tears started to slowly drip from his eyes. Virgil did nothing to stop them, instead allowing them to fall off his face and into his lap.

“Shit, Virgil, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Roman was quick to apologize. The later boy shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s not you,” Virgil hesiated. “I just got some really bad news.”

Roman frowned and looked worried for him. The look honestly made Virgil get a little choked up. Virgil couldn’t believe that he had once thought that Roman was hard and uncaring.

“I- Virgil, are you- are you going to be okay?”

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say, but luckily enough, he was interrupted by Logan and Patton entering the room. Patton handed him a water bottle, and Virgil immediately opened it and started to guzzle it down as he came to the realization that he was parched. He choked and spluttered instantly, coughing up the water.

“Take it easy Virge,” Patton said softly.

He nodded, and tried to finish the water more slowly. After he was done he looked at his roommates.

“I need to call my dad,” he said, not meeting any of their gazes, “Would- would you guys please stay with me?”

“Of course sweetheart,” Patton told him.

The other two nodded.

He then took a deep breath and turned back to his phone to type in a familiar number. He punched it in and held the phone up to his ear, waiting for the familiar voice to pick up on the other end.

“Dad?” he said as it connected.

“Virgil?” came the other’s voice.

Virgil started to cry again and wiped the tears away quickly.

“Hi Dad,” he whispered.

“Hey son. Are you crying? Talk to me V.”

“They found me!” Virgil said with a loud sob.

“Breathe Virgil.” His father’s voice was gentle but commanding and Virgil took a large gulping inhale.

“Okay,” he said, and tried to do so.

“You said they found you?”

“Yes! I, I got a phone call and-”

“What?” his father asked, a harder edge encroaching onto his softer tone.

“They have him in custody. Dad, they want me to testify.”

“Honey I’m going to need you to explain a bit more.”

“I got, got a call,” he choked out, “from an attorney. They have Matthew Waters in custody and are taking him to court. And they want me to testify against him. But, I, I can’t- I can’t- He’ll take me again! Dad they think I’m dead, they’ll kill me!”

Virgil was hyperventilating at this point, worse case scenarios racing through his head. Maybe they wouldn’t kill him. Maybe they would take him again and hurt him and torture him and play with him. And then, maybe, if he was lucky, they would finally kill him. After everything, it would come as a relief.

“Deep breathes Virgil,” came his father’s steady voice. It was firm and familiar, a voice that had guided Virgil through countless panic attacks over the years.

“Okay.”

“Breathe in. Hold. And out. Again. In, hold, out. Again. In, hold, out. Doing better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay honey, now I need you to listen to me. He cannot get you. He is in custody, if there were any reason they thought he, or anyone else could hurt you, they would deal with it. They don’t even know you’re alive. The prosecution probably wants to keep that quiet for now, because keeping you quiet makes sure that the defense wouldn’t be able to prepare a refutation. We can call in to make sure you’re safe, okay sweetheart. Your safety is a priority.”

“But Dad if I testify- And they find me-” Virgil almost pleading, begging for reassurance.

“Don’t worry about that right now honey. Just focus on the fact you’re safe. Talk to your friends. They seem like good kids.”

“Okay.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I love you.”

The panicked adrenaline was starting to recede somewhat, and the beginning of exhaustion started to seep into his bones.

“I love you too, V. Do you want to keep talking?”

“No, no, I think I’m okay,” Virgil hesitated, “but can call you again tomorrow?”

“Of course Virgil. You can call me whenever. Okay?”

“Okay,” Virgil confirmed, “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Virgil hung up and sniffled, wiping more tears from his eyes. The other three looked at him, all of their lashes also tinted with tears.

The room was heavy with silence.

“Uh, so I guess I should explain, I mean-” Virgil stumbled.

“Virgil, you are not obligated to share anything with us, if you-”

“Logan, shut up.”

Virgil took a breath and began.

“Okay, so, I’m not going to go into it all. I mean you already know a lot of it. Okay so, you know I was kidnapped when I was six.”

They all nodded.

“And that I was taken to a cult.”

More nods.

“And I was rescued when I was 13 and left abandoned in the-” Virgil choked, “cellar, when they fled because the police had connected them to kidnappings and murders.”

They all nodded again.

“Right well, then I’ve told you about my recovery process and PTSD and everything. But, I never- I mean- the cult obviously continued to operate, right?

“So, uh, the leader, uh, our,” Virgil bit out the next word, “Savior, was Matthew Waters. You probably heard me on the phone,” Virgil hesitated, took a deep breath, and looked up at his friends, “They caught him. And they need me to testify against him.”

* * *

 

**October 22, 2019**

 

Ever since last year, Patton and Virgil made it a habit to get lunch at one of the little university cafés once a week. A tradition that had started based on scheduling convenience but was now just a time to hang out individually.

“So, how are you feeling about all of it?” Patton asked carefully as he sipped his iced tea. He reached up to push one of his dreads away and huffed as it fell back into his eyes. Virgil smiled at the action, then shook himself back to the question at hand. He just shrugged in response.  
Patton just gave him a look. A look that always, without fail, made Virgil want to spill whatever secret he was holding in.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, “I mean, I want to testify, I do, that bastard deserves to be locked up.”

“But?” Patton prompted. God, Patton knew Virgil well. Or maybe he just knew people well. Either way, he was great at catching Virgil’s half-truths.

“But I’m scared they’re going to find me and come after me.”

“Oh, Virgil,” Patton said softly, reaching out to grasp Virgil’s hand. Virgil looked down.

“And I know that that’s not going to happen,” Virgil continued, “Logically, I do know that. But for the past seven years of my life I’ve worked so hard to recover, knowing that I would never have to see those people again. And now I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton offered, “I wish I knew how to help. You don’t deserve to go through any of this.”

Virgil sniffed and rubbed at his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “It’s whatever. I’ll get over it.”

“You know something my mom once told me,” Patton offered, “she told me, ‘there is always someone worse off than you. And that is important to remember. But what is even more important is to remember that your issues matter to. You are allowed to hurt and struggle like anyone else.’ I’ll never forget that,” Patton admitted, “She told me that when I was ten maybe? I dunno. I memorized it word for word. Took me forever.”

Virgil fiddled with his straw as he mulled his friend’s words over. He eventually looked back up at the other boy. Patton smiled softly at him, and Virgil couldn't help but return it. Somehow, talking to Patton always made him feel a bit lighter.

“Thanks Patton,” he muttered, “I really needed that.”

“No problem honey, I always have a jamming good time with you,” Patton said with a smile as he picked up the said condiments from the centerpiece of the cafe table.

Virgil snorted. What a dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In-Depth TW: Virgil gets a phone call informing him of information regarding the cult that kidnapped and abused him. Virgil has a panic attack and flashbacks. During this he injuries himself unintentionally and throws up afterwards. The description of bones, blood, and dead bodies all surround cult rituals.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Please tell me what you think! And please be polite!  
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	4. Penultimate (November)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil starts to sort out his feelings surrounding his future testimony and reflects on how his trauma has affected him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In result of the last two chapters being the only chapters under 2,000 words, enjoy the only chapter over 3,000.
> 
> TW: PTSD, Past Abuse of a Minor and Related Symptoms (nonsexual), Past Manipulation, Past Cult Involvement, Past Kidnapping, Past Abusive Relationship, Allusions to Sexual Abuse
> 
> In Depth TW in End Notes

**November 4, 2019**

 

Virgil didn’t mind the office. It had basic furniture; a desk, bookshelf, coffee table, a couch, two chairs, with a side table each, and a beanbag.

The desk was messy, with just enough area cleaned out for the shape of a computer. Papers covered it, mostly in uneven lumps. More than one official looking envelope was shoved in between them.

The interesting parts were the decorations. Disney figurines to Pixar plushies to posters of animated characters covered the office in just away that it stayed aesthetically pleasing while not overwhelming. It was childish in a way that still seemed professional, and honestly set Virgil a bit at ease, because these had to be his therapist interest, and the fact that he was sharing for all to see was hopefully a reflection of an open and trustworthy character.

Virgil had never been in a therapist's office quite like it before, but he liked. It wasn’t the same comfort as his old therapist’s office, but it was nice. It had an open and inviting energy to it.

Plus, in the entire office, there wasn’t a single houseplant. Good. His counselor had a few of those, and Virgil absolutely hated them.

“So, how are you feeling about having to testify?”

“Fine,” Virgil mumbled, choosing to train his eyes on a Steven Universe poster in lieu of replying in a deeper manner.

The gentleman across from him sighed and tapped his pen against his notebook.

“Virgil, I know I’m not your old therapist, but I need you to put in some effort here.”

“I am.”

The man shook his head and leaned forward, setting down the notebook for a second as he trained his eyes on Virgil. Virgil looked steadfastly in the other direction.

“No, you’re not. Don’t forget that Dan and me talked. He told me that you would dart around everything until you trusted me. He also told you to give me a chance.”

“So I have trust issues. Big whoop,” Virgil mocked.

Sure he had told Dan he would give the guy a chance, but wasn’t he technically doing that? He was sitting here in this guy’s office, wasn’t he? That had to count for something.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” the doctor asked.

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked as a frown crossed his face.

“You don’t trust me. You testify against your abuser in five months. During those five months you will repeatedly discuss the abuse you faced, in detail, digging up seven years of memories. You can’t see Dan. Are you just going to go therapist hopping until then? Ignore your trauma? Bottling everything up? For this to work, I need you to give me a chance,” the therapist insisted.

Something in that mini speech managed to light something in Virgil. From where had been subdued and zoned out, inspecting the room without care, he was now angry and alert. His heart thumped in his chest and the world seemed to press down around him.

“What the hell would you know,” Virgil hissed out, “I went through seven years of hell. Seven _years_! I spent close to a decade of my life in a fucking cult where the adults manipulated the shit out of me. For seven years I lived with people who literally did not care if I died. And here you are telling me that I need to _trust_ you? Yeah, no fucking way,” Virgil huffed, wiping angry tears from his eyes. When did those get there?

He huffed for breath while his therapist looked at him calmly all the while. Seriously, what was this guy’s deal?

“What was that like?”

“What?”

“What was it like growing up knowing that the people who were supposed to love you didn’t care if you died?” he pressed.

Virgil stared at him and then burst into tears. Trixie put her pressure on him as the humiliation of crying in front of someone unfamiliar rose up within him.

“It was horrible,” Virgil choked out.

“Why?”

“Why?” he asked incredulously, “Because I was fucking _kidnapped_ by a _cult_!”

The man in front of Virgil just waited.

“Because I thought they cared,” Virgil admitted. “They hurt me, but they told me they loved me. And I know that wasn’t okay, but they told me that they loved me. And they convinced me that no one else cared, but they did. And I wanted to believe them.”

“Did you believe them?”

Virgil hesitated. The therapist rose an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Do you believe it now?”

“I- I mean I know they don’t care about me like my dad does or my friends do. They don’t love me like they were supposed to.”

“But do you still believe they loved you?” he continued to press.

Anger began to well up in Virgil again. Because god, he didn’t know. He had been taken by fucking psychopaths and forced to behave and adhere to their rules and they abused him so of course they didn’t love them.

But they said they did and sometimes they even let him go outside and gather berries or let him have a day off where he didn’t have to do anything at all, and well, that was nice of them right? They didn’t have to do those things and they did and sure they hurt him but...

Virgil looked at the doctor.

“Yes,” he whispered, “I still believe that they loved me.”

The doctor nodded and leaned back in his chair.

“Well Virgil, that’s our time for today. Will I be seeing you next week?”

Virgil looked at the doctor while he gathered his thoughts. Eventually, he nodded and stood.

“I’ll be here,” he said, turning to leave the room.

As he opened the door to exit, he turned around.

“Uh, Dr. Picani?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“Virgil, _I_ didn’t do anything.”

Virgil hesitated for a second, then shook his head and left.

God, he was absolutely exhausted. Therapy would do that to you. Fuck. And he still had one more class today.

He sighed, swiped at his eyes again, and set a path towards the bus station, Trixie standing faithfully at his side as always.

* * *

**November 6, 2019**

 

“Are either of you going home this year?” Patton asked.

The exuberant roommate draped himself over the back of the couch and onto both Virgil and Roman.

“No,” they responded at the same time.

“Great! Logan isn’t either, how do you two feel about coming home with me?” Patton questioned with his signature smile.

Roman turned around to look at his friend with a wide smile.

“Hell yeah! That sounds great. Are you sure your family won’t mind?”

Patton grinned back at his younger friend.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, “They’re dying to meet you. Get it? Dying? Kind of like the turkey we’re about to kill? Okay now I just made myself sad. Bad pun, I wish- get it like the wishbone of a turkey- that I could take it back.”

Roman just snorted and rolled his eyes, grinning merrily all the while.

God Patton and Roman were really just overgrown puppies, weren’t they? Not even Trixie had this much energy.

“Virge, you coming with us?” Patton asked, turning the focus over to him.

The smallest boy shrugged.

“I dunno,” he commented.

“Why not,” Roman groaned, flopping onto Virgil’s lap with a dramatic sigh. Virgil scowled, but didn’t bother pushing him off.

“I just- You're already going to have Roman and Logan- I wouldn’t want to impose-” he explained.

“Virgil, do you want to come? It isn’t a trick question.” Pattern asked, looking softly into the younger boys eyes. Virgil quickly looked away and fiddled with his fingers.

“Well, I mean, yes, but-”

“And do you trust that I want you there?”

“Yes-”

“Then what’s the issue.”

Virgil shrugged, “It’s just- y’know, it’s supposed to be family time. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Virgil, I need you to listen to me.”

Virgil glanced up and made eye contact with Patton.

“Virgil, I don’t know who told you that you were an obstacle in life, but I want to murder them right now. I’m not inviting you because you make Thanksgiving less fun. I’m inviting you because I genuinely enjoy your company,” he explained in a serious manor.

Virgil gave a small nod and started to grin.

“Is that a yes?” Roman asked, still on top of Virgil.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, his smile growing.

“Wooo, yes! This is going to be great!” Roman said in excitement, jumping off the couch, and by extension, Virgil’s lap.

Patton’s gleeful “I know, right!” quickly followed.

Virgil didn’t join in, but he smiled to himself nonetheless.

* * *

**November 16, 2019**

 

Virgil wasn’t quite sure how he managed to make it through the day. His brain was so exhausted that he had started to become physically affected by it, the tiredness seeping into his bones and weighing him down. It took all his energy to just open the door to the apartment when he got back. Maybe he would take a quick nap. Yup, that sounded like a good plan.

With a groan, he left to his room and fell onto his bed, prepared to rest as long as he could before being forced to be productive once again.

“Oh, hi,” a voice said.

“Holy shit!” Virgil shouted as he jumped, falling off his bed.

“Woah, dude, it’s just me,” Roman said, “Been sitting on my bed since you walked through the door.”

Wow, he really must of been tired. One of the many outcomes of his PTSD meant that he tended to be hyper aware of his surroundings. Missing Roman completely- who literally was just sitting on his bed in plain view- really was a true indicator of just how drained he was.

Virgil sighed and picked himself off the floor.

“You look like crap,” Roman commented as he put down the textbook he seemed to be scanning.

“Therapy,” Virgil huffed in explanation, “Do you even go to classes? I swear, I’ve never been home when you’re not here.”

Roman laughed, “Yes, I go to classes. You just got stuck with a shitty schedule.”

Virgil groaned but conceded to the truth in his statement.

“But seriously man, are you okay? I don’t care if it was a therapist, I can kick his ass if need be. I mean, I know you said your last session with the new guy went well, but...”

Roman had narrowed his eyebrows, sitting up on his bed. His arms were folded and he pouted a little bit. If he wasn’t so serious- and if Virgil wasn’t so tired- he would have laughed.

“First off, Roman, you literally wouldn’t be able to kick anyone’s ass, you would be too worried about your hair getting ruined or your nails getting chipped.”

“True but-”

“And anyways, yes I’m exhausted, but it was a really good session.”

Roman frowned, “Wait. If you had a good session, shouldn’t you be like, happy?”

Virgil sighed. Roman was a great guy, but he often didn’t get things like this.

“Not always,” Virgil said, “It’s like-” What’s something that Roman could relate to? “Uh, it’s like when your doing play practice, right? And you’re playing your part, but you suck at it. And someone tells you. And it feels awful because this whole time you’ve been doing it wrong and that really hurts. But ultimately, it’s really good because even though it hurts, you now know how to make the character better, which improves the play overall.”

Roman nodded in thought, seeming to take in what Virgil was saying.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “I think I get it, but now explain it with you. Like what’s the character for you and stuff?”

Virgil hesitated and sat up, sitting against the edge of the bed. He picked at the chipped polish on his nails.

“Okay,” he started, “Let’s see. So I’m living my life and honestly- currently not doing that great at it. Sure- I’m making it through and I’m not hurting myself- but I still can’t help but feel my past weigh down my every step these last two months. And not only that, but I also miss- no- feel a connection? Responsibility? To my past to an extent. This makes my life not as good.

“So Picani- my therapist- pointed that out about a week or so ago. Well, a specific part of it. He helped me realize that I still believe that the members of the cult that kidnapped me cared about me. And that hurt. Because it’s true, I do still think they cared to some degree. Even though I know at the same time that that isn't true. And that really sucks. But the good part is that I can work on that with Picani and my life can ultimately improve. My past will always be there, but I can learn to live with it better.”

Sometime during the speech, Roman had gotten up from his bed and sat down onto Virgil’s. His eyes were wide, peering at Virgil.

“Okay, I have another question, and let me know if I’m asking too much,” Roman said after breaking eye contact.

Virgil nodded for him to continue.

“Why do you think they cared about you? They hurt you.”

Roman said it if it was all so simple. Oh, and how Virgil wished it was truly just that simple.

“Have you ever had a friend, or a boyfriend, who was mean to you, but you stayed with them because their status as friend or boyfriend supposedly meant they cared about you? And even though they didn’t care, they told you they did? And that they were the only one who could love you or care about you?”

“I mean- kinda, not as extreme, yeah, but- oh.”

Virgil just nodded.

“Now imagine that for seven years plus those are the only people that you are around. Your parents, teachers, friends, everyone.”

“Fuck,” Roman muttered, flopping back on the mattress.

Virgil did the same. Roman grabbed his hand and held it. They laid there together, staring at the ceiling, together.

* * *

**November 27, 2019**

 

“Why does Roman get to drive?” Virgil complained when Roman took the seat in front of him.

Said boy turned around to face him, “Because Count Woe-Laf, your legs are the shortest, and mine are the longest. Ergo, I can get the most leg room this way.” Roman then proceeded to move back his chair, ramming into Virgil’s legs.

“Dude, the fuck,” Virgil swore, pulling his legs as tight as they could go to avoid them getting smushed.

“Roman, put your seat back,” Patton chided.

Roman huffed, but pulled it forward. Virgil let his legs stretch out a bit more. This was going to be a long trip.

And long it was. Three hours later and they were almost there, slowly closing in on Patton’s house.

“What are your moms’ names again?” Virgil asked for the fifth time. Patton had just announced they were a few minutes away and he wanted to make sure he got them right.

Roman groaned at the repeated question.

Patton just looked at him again and smile, “Rachel and Bertha.”

Virgil nodded and wrung his hands together. Logan- who was sitting next to him- noticed, and offered the tangle toy he was fiddling with. Virgil took it gratefully. Trixie, from her position in the middle, also nudged his hand and laid her head on his lap. Right. Deep breaths Virgil, you could do this.

“And your siblings names?”

“Dude, he’s said them like a hundred times,” Roman complained from the front, “You know them by now.”

“Well, what if I forgot-”

“Well, what do you think they are?” Roman challenged.

“Blythe, who’s older, Danielle or Dani, who’s younger, and Liam, also younger,” Virgil repeated from memory.

“Yup! Great job kiddo!” Patton said, shooting him a smile.

“See,” Roman pointed out, “You know all their names. Now I get that you're anxious, but your anxiety is making me anxious man.”

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered looking down.

“No,” Roman huffed, “that’s not what I- Ugh whatever. We’re here. Right Patton?”

“Yup!” Patton agreed cheerfully, “Just pull into the driveway.”

Roman did as directed and soon enough all four of them were spilling out of the car. They went around back and grabbed their bags, Virgil also taking Trixie potty and giving her a treat for being so good in the car. His dog really was the best. The four then moved as one mass towards the house. Patton knocked on the old wooden door.

Immediately a cacophony of sounds were heard from the inside. Two voices yelled at the same time they would get the door as a third yelled to slow down. A dog started barking and a faint squaking noise could also be made out. Logan had been smart to bring his headphones, and Virgil mourned for a second that his own were buried in his bag.

A second later the door opened, revealing a teen with curly hair. He let out a gasp when he saw the group.

“Patton!” he exclaimed before leaping at his older brother for a hug. Patton enthusiastically reciprocated it. As they hugged, an older woman and another teenager came behind them.

When Patton and the teenager had let go, the older women ushered them all in, giving Patton a quick hug as he passed.

She ushered them all into the living room and got them all seated before introducing herself.

“Hello,” she greeted them. “You must be Patton’s friends. I’ve heard so much about you! I’m one of Patton’s moms, Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you!” Roman said enthusiastically, caught up in the excitement, “I’m Roman.”

“Virgil,” Virgil muttered from Roman’s side.

“And of course, I know you Logan,” Rachel said with a smile at Patton’s boyfriend.

“Hello Rachel, it is nice to see you again.”

“You too sweetheart. Now, where is Bertha? Bertha?” she called out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” a voice said, before another woman entered the room. She wiped her hands on her apron and joined them. She gave Patton a large hug before taking a seat next to her wife.

“Ah, I see we’ve already started introductions. Well, I’m Bertha.”

“Roman.”

“Virgil.”

“And I’ve met you Logan.”

“And I’m Liam!” the fifteen year-old piped up.

The other teen then looked up with a scowl.

“Dani,” she said, before turning back to her phone.

“Is that your dog?” Liam then asked, pointing at Trixie and looking up at Virgil.

Virgil looked down at Trixie. She was settled by his feet, and was behaving so well with all the activity around her. She had her eyes trained on Virgil, obviously aware that he was currently in an anxiety provoking situation. She was so good like that.

He also realized in that moment that he hadn’t even asked Patton if he could even bring his dog to his house in the first place.

“Uh yeah- Uh sorry I didn’t even think about asking-” he stuttered.

Trixie pawed at his leg, noting his rising anxiety levels. He took a deep breath and gave her a pet in thanks for the reminder.

“Oh, it’s no worries,” Rachel said with a wave of her hand, “Patton told us she would be coming.”

“She’s so cute!” Liam squealed, “We have a dog too, but we put him outside so he wouldn’t go crazy when all of you showed up. Maybe they could play together. Want me to go get him?”

“Uh well, you can go get him I guess? But Trixie can’t play right now, she’s working.”

“Working?” the boy asked confused, before noticing Trixie's vest, “Oh Trixie’s a service dog? That’s so cool! Well, can I still bring Jonah in? I promise he won’t bug her.” At the end he turned to look more pleadingly at his mothers.

“Virgil, would he bug Trixie? I wouldn’t want to distract her. He’s trained for the most part,” Rachel said.

“Oh, uh it’s fine?”

“Yes!” Liam said with a shout before dashing off to the other room.

“Well, I have to go finish dinner, and I’m pulling your mom to help. You and your friends should probably try to get your stuff upstairs before Liam gets back or you’ll never escape. It’s good to have you back Patton,” Bertha spoke up once the youngest had disappeared.

“It’s good to see you too Mom,” Patton said with a wide smile. She and Patton’s other mom ducked out of the room, leaving only Dani.

Dani also seemed to realize this, looked at Patton, and sighed before standing.

“Bye,” she called as left the room.

“Love you Dani,” Patton called after her.

She grunted but replied with an “I love you too,” before disappearing.

“Okay, I’ll show you guys were you'll be sleeping. My older sister isn’t home, so that room is open.”

* * *

**November 28, 2019**

 

It was later that night- or early the next morning depending on who you asked- when everyone was asleep that Virgil sat up still wide awake. Unfamiliar places were still hard for him to fall asleep in. He had talked about it with different therapists over the years, never quite coming to an exact conclusion why, but pinning it down as probably some sort of trust and safety thing.

He grew thirsty, so he got up from bed as quietly as possible, and made his way to where he was pretty sure the kitchen was. He found it and rooted around in the cupboards for a glass.

“To your left hun,” a gentle voice said from behind him.

Virgil gasped and spun around, breathing heavily.

“Oh. I’m sorry Virgil, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Bertha said, her hand reaching out as if to comfort the boy, before seemingly thinking better of it and dropping her hand.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’m just jumpy,” he replied as his heartbeat returned to its regular rhythm.

“Mmm,” she said in response as she walked over to join him, “I was like that for a while after leaving my ex. Would you like some tea?”

“Uh, sure?”

She grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and poured water in them.

“I think we’ll just use the microwave tonight, it’s a lot quicker,” she said as she filled the mugs with water.

“Sure,” Virgil said, offering no complaints.

“You know, Patton thinks quite highly of you.”

“Oh, uh, he does?”

That was weird to hear. Sure, Virgil knew that Patton and he were friends, but it was still hard to believe. Patton was just so friendly with everyone that it was hard to consider himself someone special. But, he tried to rationalize, he only ever hung out with a few people regularly. And Virgil was one of those people.

“Yes,” she said, moving to the microwave, “And I can see why.”

“Uh…”

“Come sit,” she gestured to the counter and they both walked over and took their seats. “He talks about you a lot,” she continued, “Really enjoys your company.”

“Oh, well, I guess, I mean, he’s a good friend,” Virgil replied, doing his best to not seem completely awkward and probably failing miserably.

Bertha shot him a look with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhmm,” she agreed, “A good friend.”

She gave him a look. Virgil opted to say nothing.

“You couldn’t sleep?” she asked eventually.

Virgil shook his head. The microwave stopped and let out a beep. Bertha got up to grab the two cups, plopping a tea bag in each before turning back. She returned to the counter and slid one in front of him. Virgil took it gratefully.

“I still can’t sleep sometimes. I just close my eyes and all I can see is her. My ex I mean,” Bertha explained to him.

Virgil fiddled with the tea bag's string.

“But, I’m sure you can understand that.”

Virgil froze.

“What,” he whispered, “Did Patton tell you- What did he tell you?”

“Oh no, no no, Patton didn’t tell me anything. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Virgil shot her a look and went back to playing with the string.

“How did you know?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged, “You start to notice the things in yourself in other people. Can I ask, are you alright? I mean, are you safe?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah, yeah it was a long time ago.”

A look flashed across her face and she pulled back slightly. Her grin dropped and her eyes darkened. She once more reached out as if in comfort.

“No- it’s not. It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t an ex. It was-” Virgil sighed and shrugged, “I’m okay now,” he promised.

“Virgil, sweetheart, that doesn’t make it any better. And it’s okay to not be okay.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, and continued to sip at his tea.

The two sat there in silence for a while longer, both slowly sipping their tea. Bertha finished hers first, and placed her cup in the sink, rinsing it out quickly.

“Well, I’m off to bed. It was nice talking to you Virgil.”

“Yeah uh, you too. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

She left with a wave of her hand and a smile. Virgil couldn’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable, but at the same time, a little bit safer. He was also starting to feel tired. He should probably sleep soon to. Maybe now it would be possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Depth TW: PTSD (Virgil suffers from PTSD and has many of these symptoms: trust issues, easily startled, etc.) Past Abuse of a Minor and Related Symptoms (nonsexual) (Virgil was kidnapped, beaten, and forced to follow a cults rules, resulting in trust issues, among many other things), Past Manipulation (Virgil was manipulating into believing no one loved him and the cult were the only people who cared), Past Cult Involvement (Virgil was kidnapped by a cult), Past Kidnapping (Virgil was kidnapped by a cult, he mentions this a few times), Past Abusive Relationship (one of Patton's moms was in a previously abusive relationship, and she makes a few comments about it), Allusions to Sexual Abuse (it is implied Virgil possibly was sexually abused, though he was not)
> 
> As always please let me know what you think and be polite to everyone you meet! Next chapter in two days like always! I hope you all enjoyed!  
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	5. Remembrance (December)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holiday season is here. Along with its arrival, Virgil gains some... other news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Cult Involvement, Kidnapping and Murder Mention, PTSD, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Mentions of Nightmares  
> More In-Depth TW in End Notes

**December 6, 2019**

 

Logan posed the question as they were walking back from a night out.

“Are we going to decorate for Christmas this year?” Logan asked.

Patton whipped to look at his boyfriend and gasped, “Of course we are.”

Logan shrugged, “Okay, I was just asking because half the apartment doesn’t celebrate it.”

“What!” Patton said in shock.

“Patton,” Logan said with a soothing tone, “You know this. Roman is Muslim and Virgil is Jewish.”

“Yes but- It’s not even about religion!”

“Pat- my man, I love you but Christmas is a religious holiday. Specifically a Christian holiday,” Roman pointed out.

“Okay yeah, but like, the idea of Christmas.”

“You mean Americanized, commercialized, Christmas?” Virgil offered.

“Yes!” Patton exclaimed in agreement using his cane as a giant pointer stick aimed at Virgil, “Exactly.”

“I mean, we can do our own celebration,” Roman offered, “I’m not really down for Christmas persay, but the idea of spreading happiness and spending time with friends and family sounds great.”

“What about a New Year’s celebration,” Logan proposed.

“I mean technically Rosh Hashanah is my New Year,” Virgil pointed out, “but I don’t care, I’m not even that religious. Roman?”

“New Year’s sounds good,” he agreed.

“Does that mean we can decorate the house for Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Years?” Patton asked, “Roman any holidays going on that we should add to the list?”

“Pat we don’t need to decorate for every holiday,” Logan pointed out.

“Of course we do,” Patton said with a gasp, “Roman?”

“My holidays are Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha, and no, neither of them are during December.”

“Okay, so just the three then. The apartment is going to look so pretty!” Patton squealed.

That night Patton called the three of them to the living room, where two boxes were present. Patton’s cane, which was previously sparkle blue, also laid on the floor, now covered in a red and white candy cane pattern.

“Pat, when you said we were going to decorate, I didn’t realize you meant like, now,” Virgil commented, “Plus, I don’t think the streamers on your cane are going to last that long.”

“But December has already started! We need the house ready to go,” Patton protested. He completely ignored Virgil’s second comment. Virgil sighed but asked his next question.

“Ready for what?” Virgil asked.

“For,” Patton waved his arms around, as if that would convey whatever point he was trying to make. “The experience,” he finally settled on.

Virgil shrugged but didn’t argue.

“Okay, so I mostly have Christmas stuff with a little New Year’s. And I ran to the store to get some Hanukkah things. There wasn’t much so I thought we could make the stars or something.”

“Star of David.”

“More like the Star of Virgil. ‘Cause you’re the brightest star to me,” Patton said, pointing in Virgil’s direction. “Now, let’s get decorating!” he said with a grin.

The group spent the rest of the evening decorating. Like Patton had wanted, it certainly was an experience. Roman got successfully tangled in lights, garland, and other assorted decorations a total of seven times. Trixie was quite confused by the fake branches of holly and kept trying to play fetch. Logan had decidedly hated the texture of the plastic pine and had instead taken responsibility over the lights. Virgil just went to places as necessary, doing nothing in particular. The one thing he did make sure to do was assist Roman by getting him more tangled in the decorations and then laughing at him as he struggled to get out.

At the end, their apartment looked like the holiday spirit had thrown up on it. Meaning it did have some sort of theme, but really just looked like a complete mess.

“I love it,” Patton insisted once they stood back to admire their work.

The other three just stared at him incredulously. But you know what, if Patton was happy with it, why not?

* * *

**December 11, 2019**

 

Virgil had an innate flaw of snooping. So, when the person sitting next to him was on their phone before class, Virgil glanced at the screen. What he saw made his heart drop to the floor.

“What is that?” he asked, already expecting to get an answer he was not going to like.

“Oh, some major cult got busted or something. Really bad stuff man, kidnapping and murder and stuff,” the person told him.

“Uh, do you know what the cult was called?”

The girl hummed and looked through the page.

“Tri- something, ah here it is Triginea. Hey, your name is Virgil, right? A kid in here that was kidnapped has the same name. Not very common, huh? You know about it?”

Virgil felt his vision tunnel.

“No,” he could hear himself mutter, “No, no no.” Trixie pressed into him, and started whining loudly to get his attention. The sharp noise reminded him of what he was supposed to do, and he sat heavily onto the ground. Everyone was staring at him. God, why was everyone staring at him. He started to cry. Trixie laid on top of him, working on bringing him back.

He could see people moving closer around him. They approached with concerned faces and asked him questions. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t say anything. They got closer. Oh god they were going to grab him and take him back. Take him back and force him to obey again. Shove him in the cellar and… the crowd started to move back. Why? A dog was blocking them. A dog was blocking them? Oh, oh right, Trixie. Good girl Trixie.

The students continued to back away and the dog returned to lay on top of them. Right, come on Virgil, just be with your dog and breathe. You know how to do this. You got this.

Virgil continued to work on his breathing, finally sitting up after around fifteen minutes. He was surprised to find the room empty except for the professor.

“Virgil?” she asked as he looked around.

“Uh, yeah, hey professor.”

“Are you-” she hesitated, “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Uh, no, I’m- where is everyone?” he asked.

“Oh, I had everyone leave. I read your email at the beginning of the year and you mentioned not to crowd you if this happened. Your dog got everyone to back away, but you still seemed nervous of the people. I cancelled class and told them they all could go.”

“Oh, uh, you didn’t need to cancel class,” Virgil said. He gestured Trixie off him and stood.

His professor smiled, “Trust me,” she said, “I’ve cancelled class for way less before.”

“Well, okay. Uh, I’m just going to go now then.”

“Do you want to call anyone?” she asked.

“No, no, I’m fine,” he insisted.

She went to say something and then hesitated. Virgil waited.

“Would you please email me when you get home?” she asked, “Just so I know you got back safely?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“No problem Virgil. Feel better.”

Virgil nodded, and left the room, wondering if feeling better would ever even be an option.

* * *

**December 16, 2019**

 

Five days later and he was finally working up the courage to look up the news article he had seen. Patton sat with him, playing a game on his phone, as emotional support. Virgil took a deep breath and typed in “Triginea Cult” into the search bar.

He expected as much, but was still shocked when the numerous new news reports showed up. He clicked one.

Cult… Apprehended… Being put on trial… Notable cases include… the kidnapping of Virgil Torres at age 6. Torres was rescued at age 13 after being abandoned by the cult. Can we expect him to testify in this trial?

“Holy shit,” Virgil muttered. Patton looked at him.

Virgil slid the phone to his friend who looked through it carefully. He read the article and stopped at the same section that talked about Virgil.

“How do they know this?” Patton asked with a frown.

Virgil shrugged, “I mean, it was a pretty big deal when they found me. I mean I had been missing for seven years. It was in the news and everything. I was just a lot more preoccupied with other stuff at that time.”

Patton frowned and continued to read.

“I can’t believe they did this,” Patton said. He held the phone in a tight grip and his teeth clenched together.

“I mean, it’s an interesting story, right? That’s how this works.” Virgil said with a sigh before burying his face in his arms.

“Still.”

“I just really hope this doesn’t become a huge thing like last time. We had to move.” Virgil’s voice came out muffled from where he had buried his head in his arms.

Patton looked at the younger boy in surprise, “You did?”

Virgil nodded.

“I had been home for like two months,” he explained, head popping back up, “And the story was all over the news and people kept coming to our house. It was really bad. Plus, y’know, I was doing a lot worse. And then I got sent away to help with all my,” Virgil waved a hand in the air, “Shit. And during that time my parents were still being harassed, so they moved. My mom left shortly after.”

“Wait, your mom left?”

“Yeah,” Virgil scrubbed his face with his hand, “It was too much for her, y’know?”

“No,” Patton said softly, as he took Virgil's other hand, “I don’t understand how a child could be ‘too much’ for their parents.”

Virgil sighed, “She didn’t sign up for me, y’know? Like my parents got married, had me and life was good. And then I was kidnapped and that was awful for them. But, seven years passed, right? It sucked, but they got used to the fact that I was dead. And then suddenly, I show up. And of course they love me and are happy to see me. I mean kids don’t just show up after that long unless their in a body bag. But I mean, no one signs up for their kid to be kidnapped and then later returned with a fuckton of mental issues multiple years down the line. My mom didn’t want a kid who was thirteen and woke himself up screaming every night.”

Patton shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, she should have loved you anyway. That’s a fault on her, not a fault on you.”

“Yeah, but, if I had just been an easier kid-”

“Virgil, you need to stop apologizing for your trauma. I think you should probably talk about this with your therapist.”

Virgil sniffled as tears ran down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he had been crying. With a huff he wiped them away.

“Yeah, probably. Thanks Pat,” he muttered, and then escaped to his bedroom.

* * *

**December 26, 2019**

 

Hanukkah was surprisingly hard that year. Ever since he had been forced into a cult, religion was a touchy subject for Virgil. He could understand why people connected to it, especially after being friends with Roman, but his trauma was too deep to really enjoy his religion. The part he did like was the tradition and the connection he always felt to his dad. He tried to focus on those good parts instead of the enforced brainwashing he had undergone during his middle seven years of life, but it was harder than usual this year.

Virgil knew his father could tell. They kept the lighting of the menorah and the recitation as short as possible. Virgil knew his father wouldn't mind if he left. But Virgil wanted to enjoy this, he did. He may not completely believe in the goodness of religion after everything he had been through, but he was still Jewish. It was a part of him. A part he considered important. Why was this so hard?

“Virgil,” his dad said, firm, but soft, “We don’t have to celebrate this year if you don’t want to.”  
Virgil shot his head up.

“No, no, I do,” he insisted, “I just-”

“It’s okay,” his dad said, calming his panic instantly. He always had a way of doing that. “Can I ask why it’s so hard this year? Usually Hanukkah isn’t this rough for you. Is it because you’re testifying soon?”

“No. It’s… Dad, do you read the news?”

His father frowned and shook his head.

“The case has been made public,” Virgil admitted, “And a lot of links have been made back to me. I’ve just been thinking about it a lot.”

His father sighed and nodded.

“What can I do?” he eventually asked.

Virgil shrugged.

“Want to go eat jelly donuts until we’re sick?” his dad offered.

Virgil offered him a smile and nodded. He’d get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Cult Involvement (Virgil was involuntarily involved with a cult. Said cult continued to operate once Virgik escaped), Kidnapping and Murder Mention (Cult actions), PTSD (Virgil has PTSD , notably this chapter, a respinse to a news report, as well as a response to religious celebration), Flashbacks (Virgil has a flasback to his time in the cult), Panic Attacks (Virgil has a panic attack), Mentions of Nightmares (Virgil has nightmares and says he has woken himself up screaming)
> 
> Also, Virgil suffers from religious trauma. I want to make it very clear that being Jewish is NOT the reason Virgil has this trauma. His previous experience with a religion (aka cult) has severely impacted how he views religion, even when it is not used in harmful ways like he is used to. His views and trauma surrounding religion do not represent the authors beliefs. 
> 
> On Logan: Look the texture of those fake pine needles are literally the worst and y'all can fite me.
> 
> Thanks for reading! We are now halfway through! Please let me know what you thought. Also, since we are nearing the end, please let me know what you would like to see in future works with this series.  
> thechildoflightning. Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	6. Two Consuls (January)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil can't help but think of his mom after a comment Patton made. And well, people always say that things get worse before they get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD, Family Problems, Victim Blaming (in a way), Shutdown/Meltdown, Panic Attacks  
> In Depth Trigger Warnings in End Notes

**January 9, 2020**

 

“So Patton told me something a few weeks ago, and I can’t get it out of my head,” Virgil confessed, looking up at Picani. Picani gestured for Virgil to continue.

“I blame myself for my mom leaving me and my dad.”

“Care to elaborate?” Picani asked.

Virgil sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he said with a huff, “So when I was kidnapped, it was obviously really hard on my parents, and eventually everyone thought I had died,” Virgil waved his hands as he talked, “And they adjusted to that. But seven years later I turned up, with a mess of PTSD, anxiety, depression, suicidal tendencies, you name it. She couldn’t handle that. She left.”

Picani nodded.

“So how do you fit in?” he asked, “How was it your fault that your mom left?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as he glanced around the room, avoiding Picani’s eyes.

“Well,” he said, “If I had just been, I dunno, less,” Virgil looked for a word, “fucked up,” he settled on, “Maybe she would of stayed.”

“Maybe,” Picani agreed.

Virgil snorted, “Wow, thanks Doc, way to make me feel better.”

Picani leaned forward.

“Virgil, that’s not my job. My job isn’t to lie to you to make you feel better, it is to help you through the issues you face so _you_ can learn the skills to make _yourself_ feel better,” he explained.

“Well then thanks for helping me make myself feel better. _Totally_ working,” Virgil bit out as he looked off to the side.

“Virgil, maybe your mom would have stayed if you were hurting as much after what happened to you. But, she might of still left. Maybe she had been thinking about it for awhile. Maybe she hadn’t. The point is, that’s not something you can control. It was a decision your mother made,” Picani reasoned.

Virgil took a breath and looked around the office, eyes catching the numerous colorful and cartoon-themed displays in a futile attempt to ignore Picani’s words. He was good at his job. Very good. Virgil was already feeling less responsible. It was infuriating.

“But,” Virgil argued, “It’s possible I could have prevented it.”

“No,” Picani said, “That is not your responsibility. You were a traumatized child in this situation. It was never responsibility,” he shifted slightly and then took a new direction, “It’s like, take some of your triggers for example.”

Virgil immediately stiffened.

“We can work on those triggers in therapy together, but there’s a large potential that some of those things will always remind you of your trauma. Your mom went through trauma too, and sadly, you could very likely be one of her triggers that remind her of that trauma. So could your dad, so could your house. But those things aren’t the triggers faults. What’s the saying about triggers?”

“Triggers are scary, but they’re just that, scary, they can’t hurt you.”

It was something the first therapist Virgil had ever had told him in his early days of recovery. The therapist was absolute shit, but that particular phrase had sat with him all these years. He introduced it to Picani when they first started. Iit seemed a bit childish at this point in Virgil’s life, but it helped keep him grounded.

“Exactly. And just like it’s your responsibility to adjust to your triggers, it’s your mom’s responsibility to adjust to hers. You’ve learned to adjust through therapy, practice, and assistance from Trixie, because removing the trigger from the equation altogether is generally unrealistic and impractical, forcing us to work on adjusting to our situation instead. It seems like your mom never adjusted- or worked on adjusting- to her own triggers.”

“So my mom removed me instead.”

“Yes.”

The two sat in silence for a minute, Virgil processing that unfortunate conclusion.

Virgil sighed, “That sucks.”

“Yes, yes it does. I’m sorry Virgil. And I don’t know your mom, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve explained, it seems most likely. The point is that your mom leaving is not your fault, even though you might believe it is. That belief is valid, but blaming- or even shaming- yourself for her absence in your life is putting responsibility on you that is not yours to take.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

Virgil hesitated before bringing up what he was going to say next.

“I think I want to call her,” he admitted.

Picani shifted, “Why?”

Virgil looked at the doctor. His face seemed sincere in his question.

Virgil sighed, “I’m- I don't know. It's just. I think she loves me. And I know I love her. I think it was just too hard.”

“What if you call her and she tells you she hates you?” Picani asked.

“Wow that sounds great Doc. I would love that,” Virgil bit out.

Picani sighed, “Here's the thing Virgil. I'm not against you calling your mom if that's what you want to do. I'm just asking what you're looking for from the conversation.”

Virgil hesitated, thinking. He started to clench his fist, nails digging into the skin. Trixie shifted to put her face in his lap. Virgil relaxed his hands and started petting her instead.

“I guess,” Virgil started, “I guess I just want to hear from her, whatever it is. I feel like I need closure and I feel like the only way I can get that by talking to her.”

“And if she doesn't respond? Or screams at you and tells you horrible things?”

“Well if she doesn't respond that's closure enough I guess. It's some sort of response still. Same with the screaming. I just feel like I need something.”

“That makes sense,” Picani validated, “Closure is a very important process of trauma recovery. But I also have to ask; what if it goes well?”

“What?” Virgil had to ask, because wasn’t that a good thing? Wasn’t that what he wanted to happen?

“I mean- what if the call goes really well and she tells you that she loves you and it was all a mistake.”

“Well then we’d probably talk more?” Virgil suggested.

“Okay, and then what? Virgil- your mom hurt you and her apologizing might not make things better. Do you realize that?”

Virgil stopped. Had he?

“I think- Yeah I think I get it,” he confirmed, “I’m- I’m not doing this to have a relationship with her. I mean if a healthy one comes out of all of this, that's great, but I mean- I’m doing this whole thing for me. Because it’s what I think I need.

Picani nodded and tapped his chin.

“Well,” he said slowly, drawing the ‘l’ out, “If you think you're mentally in place to make that call,” Picani shrugged, “I’m not going to discourage it.”

* * *

**January 17, 2020**

 

Virgil got the number from his dad. Or the last number that he had known. His parents hadn't talked in years either, who knew if it would work. Virgil typed it into his phone regardless considering it was the only thing he had to go off of so he might as well try it.

He breathed in and hit call.

One ring.

Breathe.

Two rings.

Breathe.

Three rings.

Br-

“Hello?” a voice asked from the other side of the line.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit she answered that was her that was her voice he remembered it that was her.

“Hello?” she asked again.

“Hi,” Virgil spoke out breathlessly. How was he supposed to do this? Did she know who he was? Should he hang up? What if she hung up? What was his plan? He had a plan, right? What was it? Why couldn’t he remember it?

Trixie whined and nudged him with her nose. He tried to take a breath.

“Hello? Who is this?” the voice asked.

“Uh, hi, Mom, it's Virgil.”

“Virgil?” she whispered.

Virgil took a step back, crashing into the couch. He sat down on it. She said his name. She said his _name_. Trixie clamored on top of him.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“How did you get my number?” she asked.

“Uh I- uh from Dad. I've been uh- doing a thing in therapy? And realized some things and wanted to call you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Uh do you have time to talk? Do you want to talk?”

“Um okay. Yeah I can talk. That sounds good actually.”

“Yeah?” Virgil asked, more than a little surprised.

“Yeah,” she said.

Both went quiet.

“Uh, how have you been?” she asked.

Virgil stuttered over his words, “Oh, uh, I mean. Good? I guess?”

“Oh. Oh that's good.”

“Yeah. I'm in college.”

“You are?” Virgil thought she sounded surprised. Which honestly, the surprise was well deserved, he was still surprised he had managed to make it this far himself. (Sometimes he was still surprised that he was even still alive). His free hand went to unconsciously rub across a large scar on his arm. (But that was the past. He didn’t want to die anymore).

“Yeah. I’m at school in Florida.”

“Oh. Oh. I live in Florida too actually.”

“Uh. Cool.”

“Yeah. Uhm, you mentioned you were in uh therapy?”

“Yeah. I er, I was in therapy until I went off to college and I recently restarted again.”

“Right. Um, why did you start going back?” she asked.

Virgil shrugged, “Uh just recent stuff. Uhm. They caught Matthew Waters. He's the one who-”

“I know who he is.”

“Right well they caught him. I'm uh going to testify against him. Uhm and it was y’know, a lot to bring back up. So I've been going back to therapy.”

“Right.”

They both went quiet for a minute. Virgil shifted the phone to the other ear.

“Uh Mom, why did you leave us?”

The other side didn't answer.

“Mom?”

He heard a choked breath.

“Oh Virgil,” she breathed out, “I couldn't- I couldn't handle it. And I know that's not fair to you and it probably hurt and-”

“It's okay,” Virgil said, even though it really wasn’t okay, “I mean it hurt a lot. And I've always thought that it was my fault. But I get that it was a lot. It was a lot for me too.”

“Virgil,” she whispered, “honey you were just so broken and I didn't know what to do. But you seem so much better now.”

“I mean. I'm still fucked up,” Virgil said with a laugh, “tremendously. But I know how to deal with it now.”

“That's great.”

“Yeah,” he paused and then blurted out the question he had been wondering since he was a child, “Mom, if I hadn't been kidnapped, would you still would of left dad and me?”

She hesitated.

That was all Virgil needed.

“Okay,” he said, nodding on his end. He started to cry, “Okay, Mom, I think I'm going to hang up now. But I might call back. Is that okay?”

“Oh Virgil, I just meant, you were so broken and I couldn't-”

“Right _you_ couldn't.” His tone was a bit more biting then he meant, but he couldn’t argue that it wasn’t well deserved.

She sighed.

“Yes,” she told him, “Yes of course you can call me again. I hope you do.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Virgil.”

* * *

**January 20, 2020**

 

“Hey Logan, can we talk?” Virgil asked.

The boy looked up at Virgil, and turned his head slightly.

“Me?” he asked.

“Yeah you,” Virgil said with a grin, “Wanna go for a walk?”

Logan shrugged, “Sure.”

The two exited the apartment, Virgil making sure to shove on his hoodie and get Trixie into her vest.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked when they got on the street.

“Well- I- You- I just-” Virgil stammered.

“Virgil, breathe,” Logan reminded. He looked especially nice tonight, his slightly tan skin glowing in the moonlight.

Virgil nodded and took a deep breath in, held it, and then slowly exhaled. 4, 7, 8. He knew this.

“Okay,” Virgil said with a shake of his shoulders, “Uh, this is a kinda personal question so…”

“Personal for who?” Logan questioned.

“You?” Virgil said, voice hesitant.

“Go ahead,” Logan offered.

“Right. Well. So I called my mom. She left me and my dad when I was in recovery after I was found. I haven't talked to her since. And she pretty much confirmed that she left us since I was too much too handle after all the trauma I went through.”

Logan nodded.

“So- I- just. I know you've had a rough relationship with your parents. Uh, with them wanting you to be ‘normal’ or whatever. And them putting you in therapy to ‘fix’ you or whatever. I just- I dunno- uh. What was that like? Like how do you have a relationship after all of that?”

Logan continued walking and didn't say anything. After a minute of this, Virgil spoke up.

“Logan?” Virgil asked.

Logan grunted.

Virgil went quiet.

Logan took another minute of silence.

“You're right. This is very personal.”

“Yes- I- I'm sorry- I shouldn't of-”

“Stop talking.”

Virgil went quiet and shoved his hands in his pockets, hanging his head. The two of them continued to walk onwards. Logan started to hum quietly.

“Virgil,” he said after a moment, “would you please apply pressure to me.”

“Uh like a hug? A pressure stim?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Sure. You want to sit down? I can get Trix to help too that way.”

Logan nodded and sat down on the sidewalk. Virgil slowly wrapped his arms firmly around Logan, holding him tightly, as he directed Trixie onto his lap.

They say there for a good while. Logan humming softly all the while. His hands came up to his ears and Virgil realized that Logan had not brought his familiar headphones with him. Virgil took his own off from around his neck and placed them on the taller boy. They may not as be as noise-cancelling as Logan's but hopefully they would help to some degree. Logan didn't try to push them off at least. Virgil took that as a sign that they could stay. Eventually Logan stopped humming and his body released its tension.

“Thank you Virgil,” he eventually said, “I appreciate the pressure you and Trixie provided. I would appreciate your assistance in getting up,” Logan said stiffly.

“Logan- I’m sorry- I didn't mean to- I know that it's a sensitive topic-”

“Please Virgil,” Logan insisted softly, voice barely above a whisper, “I would just like to go home now. Please.”

“Right. Uh sorry.”

God, Virgil had fucked up hadn’t he? He shouldn’t of asked Logan. He knew that Logan’s relationship with his parents was rocky at the best of times and he knew Logan still internalized a lot of feelings of inadequacy in relation to them. But Virgil just had to have brought it up, hadn’t he?

Logan clenched his fists and his eyes shut tightly.

“I need you to stop talking,” he hissed.

Virgil just nodded vigorously. The two turned around and started their walk back to their apartment in silence.

When they were about five minutes away, Logan spoke up once again.

“Virgil,” he said, “I’m feeling… a lot right now. And I'm not really sure how to handle it. It is not your fault, okay?”

“Yeah Logan, I get it. A bit overwhelmed huh?” And Virgil did know. He did. He knew it wasn’t his fault. He still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“A bit overwhelmed,” Logan said with a frown. Virgil wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with or challenging the statement.

-

When they returned to the apartment Logan went straight towards the bedroom he shared with Patton, closing the door quickly behind him. Patton and Roman both looked up at Virgil from their places in the living room, eyebrows raised.

“He had a shutdown,” Virgil explained, “I asked him a bit about some things. I think he brought up a lot of emotions for him and he's having a bit of trouble sorting through them and feeling them.”

Patton nodded, walked over and offered a hug. Virgil took it gratefully. When the younger man broke the embrace, the older scrambled away to assist his boyfriend. Virgil moved to join Roman.

“I feel bad,” Virgil admitted when he joined his friend.

“You shouldn't,” Roman said, focusing on a book, “You know this happens sometimes. It's just part of Logan. He’ll be okay.”

“I know, but I brought up a sensitive subject and-”

“Virgil,” Roman cut in, “I care about you, I really do. But you need to stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your responsibility. Not only does it hurt you. It hurts the others around you. I care about you, but I can't always be here to comfort you.”

Virgil swallowed harshly.

“Right,” he muttered, exiting the room in a scramble, “You’re right. I just get in everyone’s way.”

“That's not what I meant,” Roman said with a sigh, but Virgil didn't stick around to hear the rest.

He darted into his room, Trixie fast on his heels. He sat heavily on his bed, vision blurring. Trixie whined and nudged him. Oh my god his friends hated him. He was too much trouble. He was way too much trouble. No one liked him. He was _always_ in the way. _Worthless. Useless. Pointless._ _No one_ cared about him. And- something was pawing at him. What no? He was _alone. Alone like always because no one cared and_ \- Nope something was _definitely_ pawing at him. What? Oh oh Trixie.

Breathe Virgil, come on you're having a panic attack, Trixie is alerting you. Lay on the floor. Lay on the floor. They're you go. Trixie on top, providing pressure. DPT. Just breathe. Inhale for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. Again. You got this.

You got this.

You got this.

Just _breathe_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN DEPTH TW: PTSD (Virgil suffers from PTSD and many symptoms that go along with this condition), Family Problems (Virgil brings up and discusses his mom leaving him and his father; it is brought up that Logan has issues with his parents, specifically around them wanting him to be 'normal'), Victim Blaming (in a way) (Virgil's mom leaves him because she is unable to handle his trauma and casts blame on him for not being easier to handle), Shutdown/Meltdown (Logan has a shutdown after Virgil brings up his family issues), Panic Attacks (Virgil has a panic attack and sees himself as unworthy of friends)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my newest chapter. This one was hard to write, but I'm pretty happy with it. Remember, things get worse before they get better. Please let me know what you think. And also, let me know what fics you would like to see in the future to go along with this series. Be polite!  
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	7. Quadrennial (February)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil talks to his friends and sorts a few things out, including a possible crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of PTSD and trauma, unhealthy family relationships, shutdown (mentioned)  
> In Depth Triggers In End Notes

**February 5, 2020**

 

Virgil spent the next two weeks avoiding Roman. An avoidance that both the other roommates had caught onto. (Or well, Patton had caught onto it and had become noticeably worried. He then pointed it out to Logan, who seemed less noticeably worried and instead like he was constantly on the edge of saying something about it whenever Virgil was in the same room as him).

The tension between Roman and Virgil continued to build as the days passed, with the other two roommates awkwardly caught in the middle.

“Virgil,” Patton finally said at their weekly lunch, “What’s going on with you and Roman?”

“What do you mean,” Virgil hedged as if he didn’t know exactly what Patton was talking about.

“I mean the fact you’re avoiding him.”

Virgil took a bite of his food so he wouldn't have to respond. Patton gave him a look. Virgil suspected Patton knew that he was diverting.

“I'm not avoiding him,” Virgil eventually said. He crossed his arms in defense and leaned back. Trixie saw the action and whined. He relaxed his arms. Patton just stared at him.

“Okay,” Virgil said, “So I am avoiding him, but it's okay. It's not like he cares.”

Patton frowned and leaned forward slightly.

“What do you mean Roman doesn't care?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged, “We had a fight,” he explained, “It's okay though. He made it clear what he thinks.”

“And what does he think?” Patton questioned.

“That I'm too difficult a person to be friends with. And that's fine and whatever. I get it.” Virgil aimed for a nonchalant aloofness, but he couldn’t help but find himself scraping at the polish on his nails. Patton just picked at his food, luckily unaware to Virgil’s visible anxiety.

“Virgil,” Patton said slowly, “I don't think that's what he met. You probably misunderstood. I know Roman cares about you.”

Virgil pushed away from the table, sliding his chair slightly back with an annoying screech.

“Well, he’s been kinda shit at showing it, telling me that I'm too much to handle or whatever,” Virgil huffed.

“Did he say that?”

“Not _exactly_ , but-”

“So he _doesn't_ think that you're too much to handle. Look, Virgil I think you might be misinterpreting what he's saying-”

“Oh of course the guy with PTSD can't figure out what's reality and what's not,” Virgil snarled. He placed his hands on the table and leant forward in a desperate attempt for some sort of control in this entire situation.

“Virgil,” Patton spoke, “that's not what it meant. You _know_ that.”

Tears sprung to Virgil's eyes. Everything was going the exact opposite way that he wanted it to. It was all spiraling out of control and he didn’t know what to _do_. So Virgil got angrier. (That was at least one thing he could still control).

“I don't know, to me it seems like you’re just gunna side with Roman and not care about the things he said to me,” Virgil lashed out.

“Virgil that's not what I said- let's just- look you’re taking this the wrong way- I-”

“Right. I'm taking this the wrong way,” Virgil muttered. He stood up quickly, his chair sliding back sharply with the movement.

“I'm gonna head to class,” Virgil told Patton stiffly.

“You don't have class for another-” Patton seemed to forget when exactly Virgil’s next class was, “A good while,” he estimated instead. As Patton spoke his eyes were wide and his body was relaxed.

“I need to be there early.” Virgil didn’t even believe the lie himself. He doubted Patton would either.

“Look, Virgil, just sit down, we can talk about this-”

“Bye,” Virgil muttered before stalking off.

And if he only returned to the apartment to sleep that night, well _whatever_ , right?

* * *

**February 6, 2020**

 

Logan found him at the East Field. Of course it was Logan who found him; it was Logan who had shown him the secluded field in the first place. Trixie was bounding around, playing in the field as Virgil allowed her a break. She'd been working a lot lately.

It was Trixie who alerted Virgil to the other’s presence. She came racing over to Virgil only to run right past him, panting loudly. Virgil turned to look at her and found her wagging her tail frantically as she begged for pets from Logan. Logan was complying, petting the excited pup and showering her with compliments. Virgil waited.

Eventually, Logan stood up completely and walked towards Virgil. He took a seat next to the other boy.

“Did Patton tell you?” Virgil asked with a sigh.

“Did Patton tell me what?” Logan said with a frown. He didn’t meet Virgil’s eyes, but did turn to face him. His soft hair blew in the wind.

“Did Patton tell you that I yelled at him?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t. You did?”

“Yeah. I feel kind of bad.”

Logan picked a blade of grass and played with it for a moment. After a moment of his fiddling Virgil spoke up again.

“Are you mad at me?” Virgil asked.

“I don't think so,” Logan replied, his face scrunching up, not unlike an adorable rabbit, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I yelled at your boyfriend. And I caused you to have a shutdown.”

“You didn't cause me to have a shutdown. Those happen,” Logan reminded him.

“Yeah, but it was triggered by me,” Virgil pointed out.

“Did you do intentionally?”

“No, but-” Virgil started to argue.

“Would you intentionally do it in the future?” Logan continued.

“No-”

“Then don't worry about it,” he finished with an easy grin.

Virgil growled.

“It isn't that easy,” Virgil tried to explain.

“What isn’t?”

“It's- I worry about everything. You can't ask me not to worry,” Virgil insisted. His hand reached down to firmly press against the ground.

“Okay. Then what can I ask you to do?” Logan asked instead.

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, looking to his friend with a slight frown.

“You’re my friend. I don't want you to blame yourself and worry about things you don't need to. How can I help with that?” Logan turned to face him.

Virgil shrugged, “I don't think you can.”

Logan frowned and went back to playing with grass.

“I hate my parents,” Logan admitted, “And I also love them. It's very complex yet very simple. The other night, what did you want to know?”

“Logan, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” Virgil said with a sigh.

“I do want to talk about it. Especially if you think it might help you,” he replied, “I just had to figure out how. Ask.”

Virgil hesitated for a moment before nodding with a sigh.

“They did horrible things to you, yet you still love them. How?”

“They did what they thought was best.”

“Yes, but it _wasn't_ what was best,” Virgil said, pointing out the most obvious answer. Logan began to rock ever so slightly at Virgil’s side.

“Which is why I both resent them and love them. Trust me, it's not something I'm completely comfortable with either. I feel both love and resentment, but honestly I'm not sure how I can feel both. I just do.” Logan answer was open and honest, his vulnerability encouraging Virgil in a way that he hadn’t yet noticed.

Virgil nodded and watched as Logan stopped rocking and continued to mess with his grass stalk. Virgil thought for a moment before settling on a new question.

“What's one thing you would want to change in the relationship with your parents?” he asked.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. Instead he just rolled the piece of grass between his fingers, a slight frown on his face.

“I want to forgive them and not resent them anymore,” Logan admitted, “but I'm not ready to do that until they accept that autism isn't a flaw or something to overcome. I need them to accept that being autistic is a part of who I am and doesn’t have to be a negative trait. It can just be.”

Virgil opened his both and closed it and gave a nod, thinking.

“Logan, would you be willing to do me a favor?”

* * *

**February 9, 2020**

 

“We need to talk,” Roman said, swinging into their shared room.

Virgil shrank into the wall. Maybe if he made himself small enough he wouldn’t be seen and Roman would go away. Then they could continue to avoid each other and ignore the elephant in the room. Sure, that meant that things would never get fixed, but it also meant they didn’t have to go through the awkward process of actually fixing things. Smart, right?

“Virgil,” the younger boy insisted.

Virgil sighed but nodded. They needed to have the conversation. Virgil knew they did.

“Right,” Roman started, “You’re avoiding me.” Virgil’s face immediately heated up.

“I am not-”

Roman gave him a pointed glare. Virgil grumbled but didn’t say anything else.

“Yeah, so you’ve been avoiding me. Specifically since the night when you came back from your talk with Logan. Look, I know what I said. And I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“But you _did_ mean it,” Virgil forced out.

Roman sighed and moved back and forth on his bed. Virgil could only guess that he was figuring out what to say next.

“Yes and no,” Roman hedged, “Okay so, Virgil, I _know_ you’ve been through some shit. And I know that you're working on all that. But, it’s like, at some point it can be too much. Like, I don’t know how to help you. I won’t always be here to help you. I worry that you won’t be able to deal with that yourself. I’m here to support you, but I’m afraid you will come to rely on us and stop getting better.”

Virgil just blinked at his roommate, more than slightly taken aback.

“Well?” Roman asked.

“I am both so fucking pissed and also extremely touched,” Virgil admitted. His brain was firing like crazy trying to make sense of the complete mess of Roman’s words and figuring out a way to explain.

“What?” Roman asked, tilting his head adorably. God, the stupid lovable idiot.

“Look, yes, I’m working on dealing with my trauma better. But Roman, what you need to understand is that _coping_ with it better doesn’t mean I _get_ better. It’s still as bad as it ever was, I’m just able to handle and deal with that bad. Mental illness isn’t just fixed. There are some things I will always freak out about. I’ll probably always need more reassurance than most that I’m cared about and not at fault. That’s one of the many outcomes of being abused and having PTSD and an anxiety disorder.

“On the other hand, you’re right. I can’t rely on you, I need to be able to handle my problems myself to an extent, and have my friends support me, but not deal with my issues themselves. Me not looking to you for support at all and me relying on you completely are both unhealthy. You’re right about that.

“But that’s a process, and that’s why I’m going back to therapy. And you pointing out how I’m relying on you too much is good. But, it can also be extremely triggering for me. Even if you don’t mean to be giving me feedback in a critical way, my mind automatically takes it there as a result of bad self-worth and years of abuse. I need you to be more careful when telling me these things so that I can work on them instead of self-destructing.”

Roman was leaning forward and nodding along. His eyebrows were knitted together and his hands were clasped in his lap.

“Okay,” Roman said, “that makes sense. But how do I do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do I tell you that I think you might be doing something that’s not healthy, like blaming yourself for things you shouldn't, or relying on us too much.”

Virgil sat still for a moment. To be honest, he hadn’t even thought about it. This was a new step for him too.

“Uh, okay, um. First, I need you to tell me you care about me. Then tell me what you think I might be doing and why it’s hurting me and how I could help me instead.”

Roman frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, when you were mad about me blaming myself for example. You did really good at first because you reminded me that you cared about me. I need that, because I tend to forget that you do care, or I convince myself that you don’t, because for years of my life I was repeatedly told that no one _could_ care about me.

“Then after that maybe you could explain that you think I’m blaming myself too much and say that doing that hurts me because I’m not giving value to myself. From there you can then say stuff like, ‘hey maybe you should talk to Picani about that’ or ‘hey Virgil, is there something reasonable that I can do to help you’ or ‘hey, Virge, I think you’re overdramatizing the situation, maybe try taking a step back and see another point of view.’”

Roman continued to slowly nod along while Virgil talked. When he finished, Roman opened his mouth to speak.

“I can do that,” Roman agreed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two smiled at one another. God Roman was cute. Wait _what_?

“How about pizza for dinner?” Roman asked, “I don’t think Logan will care about not having to cook. It’s been a long two weeks for everyone.”

Virgil swallowed.

“Sounds good,” he replied weakly.

* * *

**February 11, 2020**

 

Now that each of the three had approached him, it was Virgil’s turn. Admittedly, he was putting it off, trying to wait for the right time. But when both Virgil and Patton were awake in the middle of the night, Virgil knew there could be no more putting it off.

Patton came stumbling into the room, glasses askew. He took a step back when he saw Virgil, but sighed and continued into the room.

“Tea?” Virgil asked.

Patton nodded and took a seat at the table.

Virgil grabbed another cup and filled both of them with warm water. He grabbed the box of tea bags and brought all of them to the table to join Patton.

“Nightmares?” Patton asked him. His tone was still kind, but much more curt than usual. Virgil winced a bit as he continued to come to terms with the consequences of his actions.

“Yeah,” Virgil admitted, answering Patton’s questions.

“Normal?”

“...no, different. Pain?”

“Nah. Dysphoria. Got my period for the first time in a year.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence sipping on their tea.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil offered. Might as well start with that.

“It's not your fault that my body and brain hate he each other kiddo,” Patton said, reaching for Virgil’s hand. The younger of the two allowed the contact.

“No,” Virgil clarified, “I mean for the other day. I was really rude when you were just trying to help.”

He had been, hadn’t he? Now that he had time to think, Virgil could recognize he made a response out of fear and in a desperate attempt to gain back control of an impossible situation. The problem was that in that attempt he ended up lashing out and hurting people he cared about.

“Aww, V, sweetie, it's okay,” Patton reassured, going to instantly forgiving. (Patton did that a lot- forgave people too easily).

Virgil shook his head, “It's not okay. That's the thing. You were _right_. I needed to talk to Roman and I was blaming myself a lot. I talked to Roman and I'm going to talk to Picani. But in that conversation with you, I went to a bad place. I blamed myself for being a horrible person and hard to deal with. Because of that, I lashed out at you. That wasn't fair to you.”

Patton smiled widely and squeezed Virgil’s hand.

“Thank you,” he told the younger boy.

Virgil just squeezed back.

“Video games?” they both asked simultaneously. They burst into laughter.

Yeah, things were going to be okay.

* * *

**February 17, 2020**

 

“Hey Mom, it's Virgil. Sorry I missed you. Uh I'd like to talk to you again. And you said you were in Florida? I mean, depending on where you are, maybe we could talk in person? Uh let me know. Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Depth TW: Discussion of PTSD and trauma (Virgil discusses both of these things through out the trauma), family issues (Virgil and Logan's families), shutdown (mentioned) (reference to Logan's shutdown in the last chapter)
> 
> Hey everyone! We're more than halfway through and things are starting to come together. I'm seeing Endgame on Thursday, so that chapter might be late. As always thank you for reading, be polite to everyone, and let me know your thoughts! Wishing you all the best!  
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [thechildoflightning](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks and prompts, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


	8. Late Antiquity (March)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil gets a voicemail from his mom and has to sort out his feelings around Roman with a little help. Not to mention that the date of the trial is creeping steadily closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Family Issues, Panic Attack, PTSD, Scars, Lack of Understanding Surrounding Mental Illness  
> In Depth TW in End Notes
> 
> I usually update this in the afternoons, but this afternoon I have a meeting about my accommodations and then I'm seeing Endgame. But, I also like to stick to the schedules I set and didn't want to post this late. So instead it's just a bit early! Enjoy!

**March 2, 2020**

 

“Hey Virgil, sorry we keep missing one another. But yes, that works for me. I’ll see you there at 2? I’m excited to meet your friend… And to see you. Okay bye hon- I’ll uh, I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

**March 10, 2020**

 

Virgil started to notice the little things he did more. How his gaze fell on Roman more often. How that gaze often to led to both of them smiling. How that gaze often lead to Virgil looking just slightly too long at his friend's lips. Shit.

Virgil groaned and fell onto the bed. If there was anyone who know what to do it would be-

“Uh, Virge honey, why are you on my bed?” Patton said, reentering the room. The older boy had just returned from the shower, clad only in shorts. Virgil smiled when he saw Patton’s scars.

“You're scars are looking real good,” he commented.

Patton looked into the mirror at his own chest and grinned. He traced one carefully.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “two years in a few months.”

“That's awesome man.”

“Yeah, it is. But that’s not why you’re on my bed. So what's up?”

“I have a problem.”

“Okay.”

“I think I like Roman.”

Patton gasped and let out an adorable squeal.

“How in any sense of the word is that a problem?” Patton asked. He excitedly leapt onto his bed to join his smaller roommate.

“Uh, because I have a crush on Roman.”

“Looks like _Roman_ ce is in the air.”

“Ugh, no look this is a serious problem.”

“Yeah I still don't get why.”

“Because he's my friend.”

“So? Logan and me were friends before we started dating. Well actually, we were tree buddies for a while first, but whatever,” Patton pointed out.

“I can't date Roman!”

“Well why not?”

“Because-”

“Because?” Patton prompted as he leaned forward.

“Because I'm just me. And Roman is Roman. And he probably doesn't like me anyway. I'm a mess,” Virgil admitted, voice only slightly above a whisper. Patton pulled the younger buy close.

“Negative thinking Virgil,” Patton reminded.

“Right, uh. Roman is just really special. And we're friends. Even if I was slightly desirable in any way, it's unlikely he would be attracted to me.”

“So, why not ask him and see?”

“I can't do that!” Virgil exclaimed as he turned to face his friend quickly.

“Why not?”Patton asked. His question was accompanied by a head tilt.

“Because he'd hate me!”

“Try again hon.”

“He'd, he'd, he would say no and it would probably make things awkward,” Virgil admitted, pulling his knees up to hug them to his chest.

“Or he could say yes.”

“But what if he doesn't?” Virgil asked. He clenched his arms tightly. Trixie took note of the action and nudged him softly. He pet her instead.

Patton shrugged, “it's up to you Virge, but are you going to live your whole life debating what ifs, or are you going to push yourself and take chances?”

“Fuck,” was all Virgil had to say to that.

* * *

**March 21, 2020**

 

“How are you doing?” Roman asked, collapsing onto the couch next to him.

Virgil frowned and looked up at his friend.

“Fine?”

“No, like, the trial’s coming up. You doing okay?”

Virgil tensed up.

“I’m nervous,” he admitted, “I’m still really scared they could hurt me. And after that article everyone’s gonna know, and it's going to be in the news again, and,” Virgil shrugged and went silent. He thread his hands through his dog’s fur.

“Actually, no, that’s a lie,” Virgil admitted, “Well, I mean I am nervous for those reasons. But I’m handling it. I’m actually-” here Virgil sighed and looked at the ground. Trixie shot him a look. “I’m more nervous that I’m making all this up.”

“What do you mean?” Roman asked. He leaned back, sliding his feet on top of both Trixie and Virgil.

“I know what they did to me was bad and wrong. I know. But like, what if I’m exaggerating?”

Roman huffed, “V, I don’t think you're exaggerating.”

“No, I know that it’s just... What if I testify and explain everything I went through and-” Virgil cut himself off and grabbed his elbows. Trixie nudged him, and he went back to petting her instead.

“And what?” Roman asked.

“And what if he still walks free. What if everyone else doesn't see it like I see it.”

“From what you’ve told me about the case,” Roman said, “I doubt that’ll happen. But, if it does, that’s just because of bitchass lawyers.”

“It’s literally their job,” Virgil pointed out.

“It’s their job to be assholes and not recognize the abuse you suffered?” Roman said with a huff, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“That’s not... Roman that’s not how this works.”

Roman shrugged, “Fuck if I know about legal stuff. Just know I’m here for you, okay? So are Logan and Patton. We care about you man.”

Roman turned to look at Virgil, a soft smile on his face. God, he was so gone.

“I like you,” Virgil blurted out.

Roman pulled his feet back and sat up quickly.

“Shit,” Virgil said as his face flushed with heat, “I didn't mean to say that. Shit.”

“You didn’t?” Roman asked, eyes wide. Virgil had never seen Roman panicked. Worried, yes, but never panicked. This was as close as he had ever gotten.

“No!” Virgil cried with a desperate wave of his arms. He looked at the other boy with a look of horror on his face, “I mean I do like you and Patton said I should tell you but now you’re going to freak out and hate me and we’re not going to be friends anymore oh my god what did I just do I-”

“Virgil, breathe.”

Virgil took a deep gasp of air.

“Virgil, I’m not mad,” Roman said softly, shifting back to face him, “In fact. Uh. Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Can you-”

“Okay now you’re just repeating what I said.”

“Well I’m surprised!” Virgil protested, eyes wide.

Roman snorted.

“God you’re adorable. So, can I?” the younger boy asked. He looked down, looking at Virgil’s- oh- OH.

“Can you what?” Virgil asked, refocusing on Roman’s question.

“Kiss you?”

“Oh, oh yeah.”

And my god it was the best kiss, no- the best moment of Virgil’s entire life.

* * *

**March 30, 2020**

 

Virgil was shaking. A lot. Trixie was on his lap, entire body squished on top of him, providing pressure. Logan was holding his hand, thumb rubbing in a comforting manner against the back of his hand.

“Breathe in,” he was saying.

Virgil did as he was told.

“And hold.”

Virgil tried to hold the breath painfully.

“And out.”

God, why was this so difficult. He was such a fucking screw up.

“Virgil, pay attention. Just focus on breathing,” Logan reminded him.

Right. Right.

“In.”

Virgil breathed in.

“Hold.”

Virgil held his breath.

“And out.”

Virgil exhaled with a sigh.

The two of them repeated the process a few times.

“How are you doing?” Logan eventually asked, still rubbing Virgil’s hand.

“I can breathe now,” he replied.

“Good,” Logan told him, offering him a small smile.

“God why is this so difficult,” Virgil said with a groan.

“You haven’t seen her for years, it’s understandable.”

“I know, I know. Logically I know that. But I feel like a mess.”

“I understand that,” Logan agreed, “It’s hard for me to sort and figure out what I’m feeling too.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you ready?” Logan asked.

“Nope, but I don’t think I ever will be. Let’s do this.”

-

Virgil didn’t really remember what she looked like. Like, he knew what she looked like, he had seen plenty of pictures, but for some reason he couldn’t pull on memory to remind himself of her appearance. It was all just photos and videos and nothing personal. He wasn’t even sure why he cared. Or even if he did care. Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Just focus on the goal. You’re going to go in there and meet her and-

“Virgil?” a woman asked, turning to the lanky student.

“Mom,” Virgil choked out.

She stood quickly, and they both speed walked to each other. At the same time, they both stopped abruptly in front of one another.

She reached her hand out, as if to touch him, stroke his face perhaps. Virgil took a step back, and Trixie recognizing the move, stepped in front of him, going into a block.

She pulled her hand back quickly.

“All’s good Trix,” he muttered. The dog returned to his side.

“Uh, do you want to sit?” she asked, gesturing at the small table. He nodded and all three of them took their seats.

“Uh, Mom, this is Logan,” Virgil said, gesturing to the friend that sat next to him. She offered a hand for a handshake. Logan sat still. Virgil smirked a bit at the visible reminder of the conversation they had earlier.

-

_“Do I shake her hand?” Logan asked from his position as driver._

_“Huh?”_

_“When you meet new people, you’re supposed to shake hands. It’s polite. But you and your mom aren’t on good terms. So I’m not sure if I’m supposed to shake her hand or not.”_

_“Oh, uh, whatever I guess.”_

_“Which would you prefer.”_

_“I really don’t care.”_

_“Okay,” Logan said with a firm nod, “then I’m not going to shake her hand.”_

_Virgil smiled slightly at the choice._

-

His mom drew her hand back and placed it awkwardly in her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you Logan,” she greeted in an attempt to salvage the awkward introduction.

Logan just nodded.

And then-

“Sorry, what’s your name?” he asked, “I only know you as Virgil’s mother who happened to walk out on him after he went through seven years of very intense trauma.”

Virgil bit back a smile. It had been a good choice to invite Logan. Logan would provide just the right amount of spite to the women who had left him while still providing her an opportunity to get to know her son if she really wanted to.

“Uh, my name is Beila.”

Logan just nodded.

They were then interrupted by someone taking their order. Thank god. Virgil was already vibrating with nerves. He reached down to give Trixie some pets.

“I didn’t know you had a dog Virgil,” his mom stated.

Virgil looked up in surprise. He shared a glance with Logan. Virgil always talked about his dog.

“I didn’t mention Trixie?” he asked in surprise.

She shook her head.

“Oh, wow, okay, uh well this is Trixie. I’ve had her since I was eighteen. I uh, got her after Dolly started to get old.”

“Oh, I remember Dolly.”

“Yeah, she passed away two years ago.”

“Oh. You two were really close.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you had another dog,” Logan commented.

“Yeah, she was my first service dog. It was really hard to let her go.”

“So Trixie’s a service dog too?” his mom asked.

Virgil just nodded.

“Oh, I hoped you wouldn’t need one anymore.”

Both Logan and Virgil stared at her.

“Trixie helps me,” Virgil stated firmly, “I’m better with her.”

“Oh, I know, I remember how much Dolly helped, it’s just I had hoped you would have,” she waved her hand, “I dunno, healed enough to not need a dog anymore.”

“Mom, I have PTSD.”

“Still?” she asked with a frown.

“Mom- Yes I still have PTSD. I’m going to have PTSD for the rest of my life.”

“Oh,” she said, her frown deepening.

“God, you really don’t get it do you?” Virgil asked with a sigh, tilting back.

“No, no, no, Virgil I want to understand,” she said pleadingly, waving her hands frantically. Virgil flinched away from the moving objects.

“Okay,” he said, “Okay. First, please stop waving your hands around. It’s scaring me.”

She complied and dropped her hands into her lap.

“Mom, there’s no ‘getting better’ for me,” he explained, “I will always have PTSD, I’ve just learned how to handle it better. Wow this reminds me of the conversation I had with Roman.”

“Who’s Roman?”

“Roman’s my boyfriend mom.”

“Wait,” Logan interrupted, “You and Roman are dating?”

“Uh yeah.” Shit, well there went to waiting to tell Patton and Logan together.

“Wait, how did I not know this?”

“It’s new, don’t worry I’ll fill you in later.”

“Good,” the other boy huffed, swiping a hand through his hair.

“Okay, but pretty much, Mom, the point is that the only thing that has changed in the past seven plus years is my ability to deal with my trauma, not the trauma itself. And if we’re going to try to make this work, I need you to accept that.”

She nodded, “Okay. I can try that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other. Things might not be perfect, or honestly even good, but they also weren’t terrible.

This was manageable.

-

“So you and Roman are dating?” Logan commented as they drove back.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“It literally happened a week ago,” Virgil explained.

“Oh, okay. Does Patton know?” Logan questioned.

“No. Me and Roman literally just decided to officially call each other our boyfriends today. We were going to tell you both tonight.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

Logan snorted.

“What?” Virgil asked, casting the driver a look.

“I think it’s funny.”

“Me and Roman dating?” Virgil asked.

“Oh no no no,” Logan said frantically, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Logan, it’s okay. What did you mean?”

“Well it’s just, your namesake, Virgil, was a poet during the Augustan period.”

“O-kay?” Virgil said, not understanding.

“Exactly,” Logan said with a chuckle.

“No, Logan, I still don’t understand.”

“Oh. Oh! Virgil’s a poet.”

“Yes.”

“A Roman poet.”

Virgil shared a look with his friend and shared a laugh.

“God, I hope Roman doesn’t expect me to write him poetry,” he said with a sigh, turning to look out the window.

“I’d be more worried about the fact that considering your dating Roman, he’ll probably be writing you poetry. And we all know that out of Roman’s many talents, poetry writing is not one of his strong suits.”

Virgil just groaned in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN DEPTH TW: Family Issues (Virgil's mom left him and his father), Panic Attack (Virgil has a panic attack), PTSD (Virgil suffers from PTSD and display numerous symptoms of PTSD), Scars (Patton's top surgery scars are referenced), Lack of Understanding Surrounding Mental Illness (Virgil's mom doesn't really understand mental illness and is somewhat invalidating towards Virgil's struggles)
> 
> On Logan: His reaction to Virgil's name and Virgil and Roman's relationship was my own exact thoughts on the subject. I was laughing about it for a good while and still find it funny, but my allistic friends told me that that was just me so sorry if you didn't find it funny lol. I'll enjoy it for both of us.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next one is the trial! I hope you're all doing well and feel free to tell me what you think. Please be polite!


	9. Etymology (April)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With April, the date of the trial arrives. Also a cameo from our favorite Starbucks basic bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD, Cult Involvement, Panic Attacks, References to Past Abuse, Corpses, Throwing Up  
> In Depth TW In End Notes

**April 19, 2020**

 

Virgil was 110% not anxious. It didn’t matter what his roommates were telling him. Or what Trixie was telling him as well for that matter. All that matter was that Virgil was definitely, totally, not anxious. Nope. No way.

“Has anyone seen Trixie’s papers?” Virgil asked, pacing across the small living room, looking everywhere for them. He pulled up a cushion on the couch in case it had somehow ended up there.

“You already put them in your bag,” Logan reminded him.

“I did?” Virgil asked. Before anyone could answer, he darted back to his room to check. And yup, there they were.

“Okay, what about her food, did I pack Trixie’s food?”

“Virgil,” Patton said soothingly, “Take a breath. You’ve packed everything.”

Virgil didn’t stop his pacing.

“But there’s just so much to pack, and what if I forget something? And they can’t even guarantee that I’m not going to be there longer than a week. And what if-”

Trixie was whining and pawing at him to get his attention.

Roman slowly walked over to him.

“Virgil, can I touch you?” his boyfriend asked. Virgil nodded an affirmative. Roman placed his hands on Virgil’s shoulders.

“Let’s sit down, let Trixie do her job,” he said soothingly, “How does that sound?”

Virgil nodded a few times.

“Yeah, that sounds, yeah. Yeah let’s do that,” Virgil agreed.

He slowly collapsed onto the floor and allowed Trixie to perform DPT. Patton and Logan came over to join the trio, also sitting, but still giving Virgil enough space to not overwhelm him. Virgil appreciated the gesture.

“Virgil,” Logan said softly, “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s just, this is it. Holy shit this is it.”

In the past whenever Virgil had thought of this precise moment his heart clenched and he struggled to breathe. But suddenly, something changed.

“Holy shit, I’m going to go testify,” Virgil said with a gleam in his eyes.

The other three exchanged glances. They were probably more than a little worried about his mental health. Virgil let out a laugh.

“I’m about to fly on a plane back to Utah and testify in a huge court case against the leader of the cult that kidnapped me. How crazy is that?” He laughed again.

For some reason, the craziness of the situation made everything clearer. For so long everything about his life had seemed overwhelming. The absurdness of his past made it all the more real. Real in a way that it wasn’t before. Real in a way where it didn’t feel like a horrible nightmare, but his actual life. And if it was real, that meant it was something that Virgil could learn to adapt to.Something he could learn to manage. And with that thought in his mind he took the clearest breathe he had since he was seven years old. He grinned wildly, perhaps a bit animalistic. The day was here, and he was finally, finally ready for it.

“That bastard’s going to jail.”

* * *

**April 20, 2020**

 

Virgil’s confidence disappeared the second he got on the plane. God he forgot how much he despised planes. Virgil already wasn’t a huge fan of people and hated surprise touches. Put him in a crowded space with another person squished up against him? Yeah, no thanks. And of course, of course, this time he just so happened to be seated next to the women who had an issue with him.

“Why is there a dog?” she said loudly, staring at Trixie. Her tone was snide enough that it made Virgil uncomfortable.

Virgil stiffened. Trixie herself was being perfect as always, in a neat Tuck to keep out of the way.

“Hey, you,” she huffed, waving a hand in Virgil’s face. Virgil jumped and flinched back at the action. Immediately Trixie leapt into action, jumping onto the seat between Virgil and the aisle, going into a block.

The lady shrieked.

“Get your dog down!” she hissed, “She’s completely out of control.”

At the loud complaint Virgil tucked in to himself and grabbed his elbows. Trixie gave the women another look, before turning to focus on Virgil. He whined and pawed at Virgil a few times before the boy turned to pet his dog instead.

“Excuse me!” the women insisted.

“She’s an, uh, service dog,” Virgil managed to get out, visibly shaking. Trixie laid down on his lap.

“A service dog? She’s not a service dog. She’s not even behaving!” she argued.

“Well, uh, she, she is. She’s tasking uh and-”

“What?!”

At this point the women had blocked the row of passengers for quite a while and a flight attendant had walked over to take a look.

“Ma’am, could you please take a seat?” the flight attendant requested. The women whipped to face the flight attendant.

“Well, if you couldn’t see, there’s a dog there. There shouldn’t be a dog.”

“Well, I’m sure the dog could move to the floor. I saw her down there earlier. But the dog is a service dog, so she’s allowed to stay,” the flight attendant replied patiently.

“What?” the women complained loudly, “That dog isn't a service dog.”

“She is,” Virgil insisted.

“You’re just saying that,” the women hissed, “I’m not sitting next to it. You need to move.”

“But- This is my seat, and this is the only place my dog fits, that’s why I’m sitting here.”

“Ma’am,” the flight attendant tried again, “That’s his seat. You can either sit down or find another seat.”

“Alright who’s being the bitch over here?” a familiar voice asked.

The rest of the crammed passengers parted as if the new person was Moses and the plane aisle was the Red Sea. The owner of the familiar voice appeared in Virgil’s line of sight.

Remy, of all people, along with his guide dog Cha-Cha now joined the flight attendant and the angry women in the cramped area in front of Virgil’s seat.

The women just shrieked at the sight of him.

“Wow lady, no need to burst my eardrums, I don’t need another sense that doesn’t work,” Remy said with an easy grin, even while he held his body stiffly.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry,” the women said, suddenly much more polite, “I didn’t realize you were blind. That’s- I’m so so sorry.”

“All good,” Remy said with a wave of his hand, “Now, what’s the problem? I heard something about service dogs and me and Cha-Cha wanted in.”

“Well, this man here claims to have a service dog, even though it is clearly misbehaving. Certainly you must understand. Animals like this can give such prestigious dogs a bad reputation,” the women commented, seemingly sincere. The fuck? So because Remy had a visible disability he was allowed to have a service dog, but Virgil, who didn’t, wasn’t? Where in the fuck was that rule written down? If Virgil hadn’t been so terrified, he would have been furious.

“Well, what’s it doing?”

Virgil felt like now was probably the appropriate time to speak up.

“Uh, hey Remy,” he said, “It’s-”

“Virgil!” Remy said in surprise, turning to face him, “Gurl, what are you doing here? Okay wait. Person, his dog’s a service dog. Now are going to sit or not?”

She spluttered.

“That is not a service dog! She was behaving poorly.”

“Ma’am I’m sure we can figure this out,” Remy soothed, “Trust me,” he then turned his attention back to Virgil, “Uh V, gurl, what gives? Trixie like the best dog to ever exist. After Cha-Cha of course,” Remy asked.

“Uh, Trixie, She uh,” Virgil started to splutter, breathing heavily.

“You good man? She tasking?”

“No, I mean y-yeah she’s t-tasking. Uh. she thought- It’s-”

Remy frowned.

“Okay Ma’am, I’m gonna need to ask you to leave, you’re obviously making my friend uncomfortable. But hey, look at that, that works perfectly, we can just trade seats. I usually sit in the bulkhead anyway, y’know with Cha-Cha and all, but I wasn’t this time ‘cause I was with a group.”

The women just spluttered in response.

“Awesome!” Remy said cheerfully, as if she had responded an affirmative, “Now can you move so I can sit? Us service dog pals gotta stick together. Yup, move sweetie, thank you.” And just like that the flustered woman shuffled away.

Remy joined Virgil in the tight seats and directed Cha-Cha into a tuck. Virgil directed Trixie off him and did the same.

Remy then turned to face him.

“V? You good?” he asked sympathetically, “Don’t worry she’s a bitch.”

“Y-yeah,” he said slowly, trying to take a deep breath.

Remy frowned.

“She just scared me, just uh-give me a minute,” Virgil insisted.

Remy sighed and nodded.

“Can I touch you,” Remy asked.

“Uh, Um- not right now?”

“Okay, that’s fine. Can I help?”

“No, no it’s okay I just, I just need, need to...”

God why was he hyperventilating? Why why why. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to breathe goddammit. He vaguely heard Remy swear and proceed to pull something out of his pocket. A moment later and Remy was taking to him.

“Okay Virgil, it’s me, it’s Remy. Come on, breathe with me. Uh, four, seven, eight, right? Copy that?”

Virgil nodded.

“Fuck gurl, you moved. Was that a nod?” Remy asked.

Virgil tried to stutter something out and failed.

“C’mon V, tap me or something at least. You know I can’t see shit. I need a response gurl.”

“Y-Yeah,” Virgil forced out.

“Okay, come on, let’s breathe.”

The two did just that for a good while. Virgil not fully relaxing until a good twenty minutes later. By the time he was back to being fully aware of his surroundings, they were already in the air.

“I’m okay now,” he told Remy, who was still counting breaths for him.

“Okay, good. What happened? What did she do?”

“Nothing,” Virgil said with a sigh, “she just was loud, and got in my space so Trixie went into a block and then she got louder. Scared me. Just made me think that maybe she was going to- It doesn’t matter.”

Remy frowned but didn’t push.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil asked.

“Me, what about you?” Remy protested.

“Uh, I go to college here.”

“Right- Right I forgot about that. You live with Logan. That’s still so weird.”

“Yup, so again, why are you here?”

“School trip,” Remy said, “Costa Rica.”

“You’re high school brought you to Costa Rica?”

Remy shrugged, “It was an option for Spanish classes. Advantages of being a disabled senior. School’s are so funny when they try to be accommodating and inclusive. The rest of the group is somewhere. But why are you flying to Utah?”

“Why are you flying to Utah?” Virgil asked back

“I live there,” Remy said, face holding a ‘no duh’ expression.

“I do too,” Virgil pointed out as he smirked slightly.

“But your not on break, are you?”

Virgil hesitated. Great, just what he needed to be reminded of.

“V?”

“No, I’m not, I’m actually going to testify in court.”

Remy let out a low whistle.

“Shit gurl, I didn’t know that. What’s up? Spill the tea.”

“Uh, I- Its,” Virgil stumbled through.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Remy reassured at his hesitation, “I’m just a nosy bitch. All’s good.”

“No it’s- Uh you know- Um I’m testifying against the leader of the cult who kidnapped me,” Virgil said as quickly as possible.

“Shit.”

Remy leaned back in his seat, face turned forward. In shock, Virgil thought. I mean, Virgil was shocked himself when he got the call. Well, a little more than shocked, more like had a full-blown breakdown. Plus cult kidnappings weren’t really a common life experience.

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered as he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“Good luck,” Remy offered in support.

“Thanks.”

The two were both silent for a minute.

“Hey, you’re twenty one now, right?”

“Yes?” Virgil frowned, already more than a little suspicious.

“So you can order alcohol?” the teen asked hopefully.

“Remy I am not buying you airplane booze. You’re barely eighteen.”

“Gurl, come on, help a guy out.”

“No.”

“Awww man.”

* * *

**April 22, 2020**

 

Virgil knew that it would be hard to see Matthew Waters again. He knew that his breath would catch and his hands would shake and that Trixie would task and they would take a break. He knew he would be afraid and that all the memories of his abuse would come rushing back. He knew it wasn’t going to be a good experience and would shake him to his core. He knew all of these things would happen. He had prepared for them to happen. But what he didn’t expect was the amount of pure disgust he felt when he saw Matthew Waters for the first time in eight years.

The man sat in a pristine suit; black with a white shirt, buttoned all the way up with a dark green, almost black tie. His eyes were bright pinpoints, stopping Virgil in his tracks. Virgil swallowed. He forgot how much he feared those eyes. Matthew Waters saw the action and winked at Virgil, shooting him a quick smirk. Oh my god what.

Virgil ran out of the room as quick as possible.

He raced into the hallway and rushed to the nearest bathroom, promptly throwing up in the toilet.

He then shakily pulled out his phone and frantically called a number.

“Jack Smellington,” Roman’s voice came, much too cheerfully, “I thought you were in court today?”

“Roman, Roman, I saw him, and he saw me, and Roman he smiled and I just- I can’t,” Virgil tried to explain through sobs. The stench of bile reached his nose.

“Virgil, Virgil breathe,” Roman calmly instructed.

Virgil took a breathe he hadn’t realize he had been holding.

“Virgil. I know this is scary for you. It might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But are you seriously going to tell me that after months, months of processing and going to therapy and figuring shit out that you’re going to let a small smile of all things get to you?”

Virgil was crying more heavily now.

“It’s not that easy,” he protested as he sobbed loudly.

“Damn right it’s not that easy,” Roman agreed, voice steady and firm, “You are facing the leader of the cult that kidnapped and brainwashed you and abused you. There is nothing, you hear me, nothing easy about that. But Virgil, you made it through all of that. You made it through seven years of hell. You survived in a room full of rotting corpses for a week without food and minimal water. You survived your mom walking out, two suicide attempts, and the hardest recovery process anyone could ever go through. And now, are you going to tell me now that after all that, you’re not going to testify against your abuser because he smirked at you? What the hell was all this for if not to prepare you for this moment?”

Virgil breathed shakily.

“V?” Roman asked through the line, “V, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help. I know I’m not great at this still and-”

“You’re right," Virgil answered, voice steady.

“What?”

“You’re right. I can do this." The phone was tight in his grip

“Hell yes you can.”

Virgil stood up. It was time. He could do this.

_He could do this._

-

“Prosecution, you may call your next witness.”

“Yes your honor, we call Virgil Torres to the stand.”

“May the witness please stand and swear in.”

“Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD (Virgil has PTSD in result of being kidnapped by a cult), Cult Involvement (Virgil was kidnapped and forced to participate in a cult), Panic Attacks (Virgil has a panic attack, a woman acts vocally aggressive towards him, which is one of Virgil's triggers), References to Past Abuse (Virgil was part of a cult, they did some fucked up shit), Corpses (Virgil was locked in a room with corpses for an extended period of time), Throwing Up (Virgil panics and throws up after seeing his past abuser/kidnapper)
> 
> We're almost at the end. The next chapter is just tying everything up. Thank you all for reading this, and keep your eyes peeled for future parts of this series. There are multiple other works in progress. I appreciate all of your support. This fic has meant a lot to me. Please let me know what you thought and what you would like to see in the future. Thank you. Please remember to be polite.  
> ~childoflightning


	10. Proletarian Mayovka (May)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things fall into place, and a new relationship blooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Meltdown, PTSD, Aggressive Stranger  
> In Depth TW in End Notes
> 
> My apologies for the late chapter. A situation arose at home and I have not had a free moment until now. Of course, this just so happened before posting the last chapter. Just my luck.

**May 1, 2020**

 

Roman picked him up from the airport. Which was good. Virgil was on a high where he felt like he could do anything. Including this.

“Roman, I like you a lot,” Virgil said as they merged onto the freeway.

“Okay, good,” his boyfriend said, shooting him a quick grin.

“But you’re not the only person I like,” Virgil confessed.

Roman shot him another quick look.

“I like Patton and Logan too. And I know that we’re together and that they’re together, but I like all of you. Romantically that is. Not as friends,” Virgil blurted out, “I just- I realized on the flight back. I was thinking about dating you and how I liked you and how I came to realize I liked you, and I realized I like Patton and Logan in the same way.”

“Okay,” Roman said with a nod.

Virgil frowned at the atypical response.

“What?” he asked.

“This is actually really good,” Roman replied. Which wait what? That was not the answer Virgil was expecting.

“Why?”

“I may or may not like Logan and Patton too.”

“Holy shit, really?” Virgil asked. He couldn’t help but gape at the statement.

“Yeah. Also we’re all going out to dinner to celebrate your return-”

“I’ve been gone for a little over a week.”

“-and I mean, might as well just rip the band aid off.”

“What?” Virgil asked, raising his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“I mean if we both like them, might as well tell them.”

“Are you kidding,” Virgil yelped, causing Roman to jump, “Why the hell would we do that?!”

“I just thought, that the four of us could, y’know maybe try things out?” Roman said quietly, eyes fixed on the road, “but if you don’t want to…”

“No, no, I would love a relationship with them. But what if they don’t like me?”

“Uh, have you seen the way the two of them look at you? God Virgil, I’m surprised they haven’t said anything yet,” Roman said with a small laugh as he gave him a side glance.

“Uh, well what about, are they even polyamorous?” Virgil asked.

“Dude, both of them have talked about the fact that there in a poly relationship, even if it’s just the two of them right now. And Logan had that thing for a few weeks last year even if it didn’t work out.”

“Right.”

“Trust me Virge. Honestly, I’d be more scared about their reaction to me liking them.”

Virgil thought back to the conversations he had had with Logan and Patton.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah?” Roman asked, catching Virgil’s eye. Virgil nodding, causing Roman to let out a large whoop.

The two smiled and sat in silence after that.

“So,” Roman said as they pulled into the parking lot, “Are we going to tell them?”

Virgil smiled and nodded.

“Why not.”

-

There was a little place close to where they lived, that did all sorts of milkshakes. It was a group favorite of theirs. So when Roman and Virgil walked towards the entrance where Logan and Patton stood, he wasn’t very surprised that they had ended up here. The two hugged Virgil in greeting before stepping inside. They were seated quickly, as not many customers came this late at night. Together, the four of them squeezed into a booth, laughing.

“So, Virgil, now that that’s all over with, what do you want to do now? No more worrying about the trial,” Patton said in excitement. Virgil grinned brightly.

“Well,” he said, “First of all, Roman promised me a special date night. And we both would like if you and Logan would join us.”

Roman shot him a look.

“Right now?” he mouthed.

Virgil shot him a look back and shrugged. Why not?

“Like on a double date?” Patton asked, “That could be fun.”

“No,” Roman jumped in, “Like, all four of us on a date. Together. Dating each other.”

The four of them all sat in silence, staring at each other for a minute.

“I would not- be opposed,” Logan commented softly, stirring his drink in an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone.

“Really?” Patton asked, turning to stare at his boyfriend.

“I mean we have talked about it,” Logan pointed out.

“You have?” Virgil and Roman asked at the same time. Logan flushed red.

“Yes,” Patton admitted, “I just didn’t think it would actually happen. It was a hope.”

“Well it’s happening,” Virgil said with a small smile, “If you want it to.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. And yes, I do want it.”

The four sat in stunned silence.

“So, date night, next week?”

* * *

**May 7, 2020**

 

When his name was called, Virgil entered the room with confidence he never knew he had. He sat at the small desk in the small room, with the stupid fucking houseplant, and finally, finally knew what he wanted,

“I want to be a high school teacher,” he said firmly, before his counselor could even get out a word.

She looked up quickly. Virgil hadn’t even given her a chance to shuffle her papers.

“Oh?” she asked.

Virgil just nodded. Trixie sat next to him, her head held high, as if she knew how important this was to her owner.

“Can I ask why?” the counselor asked.

“I want to help kids. But I don’t think I’m ever going to feel confident enough to give them like, therapy level advice. I thought about working with Special Education, specifically with IEPs, but I really don’t want to interact with parents. I want to help kids. I think that as a teacher I can do that. Plus, I’ve got to do something with this English degree.”

As he ended his speech, she finally got the chance to shuffle some papers, nodding slowly all the while.

“I’m glad you’ve found something you’re interested in,” she said with a smile, “And I’m glad to see you confident in your decision.”

“Wait, I can do this?” Virgil asked, a tad surprised.

“Do what?” she asked with a frown.

“Be a teacher.”

He was not expecting it to be this easy.

“Of course you can Virgil. I mean, assuming you are planning on teaching an English course. Like you said, you are working towards your English degree. You have a very realistic and viable plan.”

Virgil leaned back in his chair, almost causing it to tilt dangerously.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, “I can do this.”

* * *

**May 12, 2020**

 

“Virgil,” Dr. Picani greeted as he opened the door to the waiting room.

Virgil nodded at him and stood. He walked towards the door, Trixie following at his side. The two of them along with Picani then left for his room.

“Welcome back,” Picani offered once they were both seated in his office.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled.

The two sat in silence for a minute.

“What do you want to talk about?” Picani offered after the moment dragged on for too long.

Virgil shrugged. Picani gave him a look.

“I feel good,” he offered.

Picani nodded and said nothing.

“But also not good,” Virgil finished.

“Do you want to explain?” Picani offered.

Virgil fiddled with one of the pillows, stroking the uneven texture as he thought about how to phrase his feelings.

“It’s like, I think I should feel happy. I mean he was convicted. But somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. I feel like this should be the end. It’s over. But it doesn’t feel that way.”

Picani nodded.

“Virgil, remember when you told your mom that your PTSD hadn’t gone away, that it was something you would always have?”

“Of course,” Virgil replied, a bit confused by the quick change in topic.

“I think you maybe forgot that yourself. Your abuser may have been brought to justice, but that doesn’t erase the years of abuse you faced.”

Virgil groaned and sunk into the couch.

“Virgil, you’re a young adult, and a significant portion of your life was spent in a cult. Realistically, it’s going to have an impact on your life, if even only because of the amount of time you spent in the cult. When you add in trauma, that majorly changes our brain patterns and thinking.”

“I know, it’s just, I don’t want it to affect me forever,” he admitted, voice just barely loud enough to be hold, “I often feel like I’m living a shell of a life.”

Picani nodded at the comment.

Virgil just sighed again and sat up straighter.

“But it isn’t just going to go away,” Virgil admitted with a frown, “is it.”

Picani gave him a small smile, “but you knew that. So what’s the issue? The real issue.”

“I’m not sure,” Virgil admitted, “I guess, I just thought I’d feel better than I do after all of this was over with.”

“Maybe it’s less about feeling good and more about finding the balance. Finding peace perhaps? You described yourself as a shell, but I’ve seen you happy. I’ve seen you enjoy life.”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil admitted, “but that’s when I try to just push all of my shit to the side.”

“My point is that maybe you don’t have to do that to be happy,” Picani explained, “Maybe instead of living in your trauma and solely your trauma, but also instead of ignoring and repressing your trauma, you could work on being satisfied with your life, even though it may have it struggles and bad memories. And by trying to balance the good and the bad, you can slowly start to become happy with your life. Even if it isn’t always good.”

“Peace,” Virgil repeated, mulling the word over in his mind. He eventually nodded decisively. “I think I can try to do that. Try to find peace. A balance. And the eventually happiness.”

“That’s all we can do,” Picani reminded him, “Try.”

Virgil nodded at that.

Just keep stumbling forward. And eventually, instead of pushing to make it through each day, it would become as easy as simply walking. Maybe one day the effort of trying to be okay would just blend into being okay. Even if okay wasn’t perfect. He could work with that. And along the way he knew he had wonderful people there to support him. And for now, maybe that was enough.

* * *

**May 16, 2020**

 

They went on their date on a Thursday. And honestly, it was just one disaster after another. A car alarm went off right next them, causing Logan to have a meltdown at the unexpected and very loud noise. This caused a crowd of strangers to approach them, checking to see if there was anything they could do for the screaming man on the sidewalk. And of course, somehow the crowd got it into their minds that Trixie had attacked Logan, and so they confronted Virgil. Virgil took it in stride, trying to calm the situation, Patton as his side as Roman watched over Logan. It was hectic, but fine, until someone tried to physically take Trixie from Virgil. Virgil freaked, stumbling back and crashing into the sidewalk with a screech. Trixie quickly went into a block, which caused the stranger to think she was going to attack. Patton was desperately trying to explain, also attempting to block the man from Virgil who was now half panicking because there was a large man trying to get to him and what if he hurt him? And oh god what if-

“HEY!” Roman roared suddenly, causing the entire crowd of fifteen or so people to all stop. Roman gave a look at Logan who had his headphones clamped over his ears and was sobbing, but who seemed otherwise okay. Roman then turned back to the crowd and marched over to were Virgil and Patton were.

“You need to back off,” Roman warned stalking straight up to the man. The man looked at the boy who, while at the same height as him, was definetly much smaller.

“What?” he asked, completely dumbfounded, “I’m trying to help.”

Roman snorted, “That dog is a service dog. She is assisting her handler. You need to back off.”

The entire crowd looked around before all staring at Virgil and Trixie.

“What? But that dog attacked that boy and then almost attacked me!”

“She did not attack him, he is fine, the two of them are freaking out because oh, I dunno, a large group of people are trying to crowd them? Trixie was not going to attack you either. She was going into a block to protect her handler, who needs his service dog. So all of you need to leave. Now.”

At the end of Roman’s impromptu speech the crowd, including the large man, started to disperse. At the sight, Roman went back to Logan’s side as Patton dropped to Virgil’s.

“Hey Virge, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, working on taking slow even breaths, “He just scared me. It was really sudden. How’s Logan?”

“Fine,” Roman responded from Logan’s side. The other boy was still shaking but had stopped crying, “Just shaken. I think I’m going to run back and grab your car Pat? The three of you just stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Virgil nodded thankfully. God what a mess.

-

“Well that was a fucking disaster,” Roman said softly as they entered the apartment.

“Sorry,” Logan whispered, quickly walking over to the couch and hugging his legs close to his body, his headphones now around his neck.

“Lo, I’m not mad you,” Roman reassured, “I’m mad at the crowd. You don’t need to apologize for getting overwhelmed.”

“Right,” he said.

The four sat in silence for a moment.

“Well, since that was a bust,” Virgil commented, “Patton and I can introduce you to our lovely late-night no-sleep club activities.”

“You guys have a club?” Roman asked with a slight smirk.

“Of course we do,” Patton said with a grin, “When you don't sleep as much as you should you tend to end up running into each other quite often in the middle of the night.”

“And just staring at each other while we both drink tea gets real old really fast,” Virgil pitched in.

“Okay so what do you do?” Roman asked.

And yeah, so their disastrous date ended with the four of them playing Smash Bros on Roman’s old wii. Which really, wasn’t a bad first date at all. After all, they’d have quite a few more to make up for it down the road.

Plus, that night Virgil got to kiss all three of them goodnight, including having both of his first kisses with Logan and Patton. He had thought that kissing Roman was the best action of his life, but after going to bed, having kissed all three of them, well Virgil may have been rethinking that. Because during that moment, the moment were he’d got to share a kiss with all three of his best friends turned boyfriends, Virgil really didn’t think life could get better than this.

* * *

**May 17, 2020**

 

When morning came, Virgil couldn’t help but continue to smile giddily at last night’s events. He walked into the living room, coming across Roman with messy hair and a bowl of cheerios. Virgil joined the boy on the couch, tucking himself into his side. Roman wrapped an arm around him and gave him a kiss. A little while later, Logan came stumbling in, visibly brightening when he saw the other two on the couch. The two scooted over, allowing him room. He joined them, giving them both a soft kiss on their cheeks before curling into Virgil’s side, still slightly sleepy. Patton was the last to join them, entering the room with a loud yawn. When he saw all of them together he let out a soft squeal.

“This is perfect,” he whispered, before squeezing onto all of their laps.

The TV was turned on in the background with the scrolling words “Cult Leader Gets Three Life Sentences in Prison.”

The lone chair left unsat in.

Virgil smiled to himself. Things were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN DEPTH TW: Meltdown (Logan experiences a meltdown due to a car alarm going off), PTSD (Virgil suffers from PTSD and it's related symptoms and trauma), Aggressive Stranger (A stranger tries to separate a service dog from his handler)
> 
> DO NOT SEPARATE SERVICE DOGS FROM THEIR HANDLER. YOU COULD BE PUTTING A PERSONS LIFE IN DANGER. Plus its illegal.  
> If you think a dog might not be a service dog, reevaluate. Note that not all handlers disabilities are visible or obvious. If the dog is not housebroken, acts aggressively, or is a nuisance/distraction, these are actual indicators that a dog might not be a service dog. Even if you are fairly certain that a dog is not a service dog NEVER physically separate them from their owner.
> 
> Thanks for reading through his story and joining me on this journey. This particular story might be coming to a conclusion, but this series certainly won't. Keep your eyes peeled for the next installment. And in the mean time, let me know what you thought about this. Be polite to everyone!  
> ~childoflightning


End file.
